


Happy Family Planning

by amaronith



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: HEAVILY Implied Venom Symbiote/Flash Thompson Harry Osborn/Flash Thompson and Venom/Harry/Flash, Implied Foggy Nelson/Matt Murdock/Kirsten McDuffie, Johnny Is Shirtless All The Time Because Reasons, M/M, Peter Parker’s Poor Decision Making Skills, Tentacles, canon is an illusion and also for suckers except for the parts I like, child illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-02 03:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaronith/pseuds/amaronith
Summary: Peter always thought he’d have more of a say over when he had a kid, that it would be something decided between him and his hypothetical lover some time down the line. But between his board of directors insinuating that the public doesn’t trust a single and child-free CEO, and a rather insistent alien queen wanting him as some kind of stud male to save her people,  Peter’s ‘someday maybe’ plan has ended up becoming 'no time like the present’ when said alien queen gifts Peter with an egg. In the face of Johnny’s depression over his still missing family, Peter invites Johnny to live with him as the baby’s nanny, because living with the guy you have over a decade and a half of repressed romantic feelings for and raising your daughter together under false pretenses is a plan that can’t possibly back fire.Good Job, Pete.





	Happy Family Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Big Bang Week, everyone! Endless thanks to the artists I was lucky enough to work with on this project, and the mods of the event for starting it in the first place.
> 
> Special thanks to Traincat for letting me borrow Fran The Secretary.
> 
> Enjoy, everyone!

“This is not happening. This is _not. Happening_.”

Peter Parker stared at his screen where his Board of Directors had been just moments before, accepting his ‘video conference’ excuse as really the only way he could see them today - they were less likely to corner him after the meeting was over if there was a screen between them and him.

 _“Dr. Parker, the fact that you are single and child-free is hurting our stock. You’re not Tony Stark - people just don’t_ trust _a fellow who’s unmarried and childless in this day and age. It makes him seem like he can’t commit.”_

“I’m not _running for political office_ , people,” Peter yelled at the screen, even though the call had been disconnected for five minutes. “I’m _running a company_!”

Well. Anna Maria and Harry were, in any case.

Peter stood up from his desk, knocking his chair over with the force of it as he _snarled_ at his computer. _Fuck_ the board, anyway! They couldn’t force him to get married _or_ have a kid! His life was his own! 

He slammed his hand down on the intercom to his secretary. “Fran, I am not to be disturbed for the next several hours for _any reason_ , understood?”

“Y-yes sir, Dr. Parker,” she stammered out, and Peter wanted to kick himself.

“Sorry, Fran. I didn’t mean to take my bad mood out on you, you’re the last person who deserves it. Use the company card and treat yourself to something nice, okay? Get a mani-pedi, I’m told they’re wonderful.”

“I... sure thing, Dr. Parker. Thank you. I’ll hold all your calls for the rest of today.”

“You are wonderful, Fran, do I tell you that enough?”

“Please don’t start, sir, it’s frightening.”

“You got it, Fran.” Peter disconnected the call, shifted what he was wearing into the Spider-Man suit, and opened the window in his office to the outside. “C’mon New York, I need something to punch in the face.”

\---

“ _Is the entire city on its best behavior tonight?!_ ” Peter growled. He’d had been swinging around for over _four hours_ now and no one had done _anything_ slightly criminal, not even so much as whistling at a lady from across the street (man, he hated those guys). 

Peter swung up, releasing the webline and turning in midair to swing back toward home, still feeling the urge to hit something itching under his skin when he heard the glass breaking and the blare of an alarm cut through the twilight. Peter’s grin was like a knife edge under his mask. “ _Yes_ , perfect. _Thank you_. I don’t know why I doubted you, New York.”

A fight barely worth having later, Peter still wanted to hit things. ‘Gee, it’s almost like violence isn’t the answer to this and you need to think of a better coping strategy for your problems, Peter,’ he thought to himself, though the voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Matt Murdock and Peter wasn’t sure he was in the mood to appreciate the irony.

If the city - no, the _world_ \- was going to betray him like this in his hour of need, he was going home. 

\---

Every time the Board tried to bring it up after that, Peter changed the subject.

And it worked … for about three months.

\---

 _“Dr. Parker, you realize that we can easily replace you as the CEO of this company,”_ they had explained, calmly, as though he were a child.

“So if I don’t have a kid, you’re going to take the company away from me? _Seriously_?”

_“It’s bad for business, Dr. Parker. You’d understand that better if you listened.”_

After the call disconnected, Peter’s head thunked down to his desktop and he screamed.

“Dr. Parker?” his secretary asked from the doorway to his office, concerned.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to have my baby, could I?” Peter asked, still face down on his desk.

“...I think that qualifies for sexual harassment.” Peter groaned and didn’t lift his head. “I’ll just… find Miss Marconi and Mr. Osborn, then, shall I?”

“ _Please and thank you._ ”

The door to his office closed gently behind her, and Peter resisted the urge to sink to the floor and hide under his desk.

_Why was this his life?_

\---

Harry was laughing at him.

Anna Maria watched Peter, worried. “And they said it would be good for the company if you had a baby?”

“Yeah, that's what they said. And that if I _didn’t_ have a baby, they’d take the company from me.”

She frowned, thoughtfully. “...I could draw up a list.”

“That is _amazingly_ not helpful, Anna Maria. I’m not having a baby with someone I don’t even _know_!”

“Because you have a line of women just _waiting_ to have a child with you who _do_ know you?”

“Yes, actually, I do!” Peter snapped at her as he lifted his head from his desk, a memo sticking to his cheek. Anna Maria arched an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms. “...I know, like, three women I could ask!”

“Uh _huh._ ”

“I do!” Peter protested as the piece of paper gave up from sticking to his face and fluttered back down to the desk. He probably had ink on his face now.

“Am I one of them?” Anna Maria asked. Peter flinched. “ _Yeah_. That’s what I thought. No, by the way.”

“Sorry…”

“Mm. Okay, ask your entire list of two women. Just don’t dawdle, or the Board really will replace you as CEO.”

“And then how will you shadow manage the company?” Peter asked with tiny grin, an apology as much as it was a joke.

She fixed him with a look. “The same way I always have.”

She walked out and Harry’s laughter slowed to allow him to gasp for air. “You okay there, Harry?” Peter asked pointedly.

Harry looked at him for a few seconds before pointing and laughing at him even harder than before, tears rolling down his face.

Peter groaned and sank to the floor under his desk.

\---

“Hey, Tiger,” MJ said, a flurry of coat and bags as she settled down across from him. “You’re lucky I was out and could meet you for lunch - you said it was urgent?”

“Kinda, yeah. You look good, MJ.”

Mary Jane beamed at him, brushing her long red hair over her shoulder. “Flattery already? You must want something.”

“I can’t tell you you look beautiful without wanting something?” It was true, but still.

MJ arched an eyebrow at him even as the waiter came over to get her order. “You have a look when you want to ask for something, Peter.”

Peter nodded, licking his lips. “I guess you would know, huh? I mean, it’s good. That you know me so well, I mean. Right?”

The look MJ pinned him with made Peter want to crawl into a hole and die. Thanks, Otto, you utter _shithead_. “ _Peter._ ”

He took a deep breath.”The Board wants me to have a baby.”

“...you are asking me to have a baby with you.”

“As friends, yes.”

MJ stared at him in silence for so long Peter actually started to squirm under the scrutiny. “...for someone so smart, Tiger, that is a spectacularly stupid idea.”

“What? No it’s a great idea! You don’t even need to be involved after -”

“Oh, so now I'm just an incubator? Spend nine months carrying your baby and then I just, what, leave the kid with you and fuck off into the great unknown? _Seriously_?”

Peter flinched. “...okay, when you put it that way, this was a spectacularly stupid idea. It made sense in my head.”

MJ sighed. “The only reason I am not _extremely_ insulted or more furious with you is because I know you’re going to make me the kid’s godmother no matter who you have it with.”

“I am?” 

“I have _dibs_ ,” she snarled at him, viciously stabbing her straw into the table so that it burst forth from its paper wrapping and Peter let out a quiet ‘ _eep!_ ’ even though his Spider-Sense barely even tickled. “ _Especially_ after having to sit through _that_ cockup you just asked me.” (art by [Millielitre](https://millielitre.tumblr.com/))

“Okay okay, you’re the Godmother, I get it! Please don’t stab me.”

“I wouldn’t waste the energy,” Mary Jane huffed, tossing her hair back again. “...honestly, asking me to carry your baby like that, like I wouldn’t want to be involved in their life after giving up nine months of _my_ life for them - do you know how impossible it is to get acting work when you’re pregnant if you don’t already have a job, Peter? Do you know that not going to auditions for nine months is career _suicide_ for an actress like me?”

“An amazing actress like you?” Peter offered, earning himself another glare followed by an eyeroll. “I get it, MJ, I’m - well, no, I’m not sorry, because you _are_ amazing, and the only thing I’m sorry about is being a little mercenary when figuring out who to ask.”

“Mercenary?”

“Who would the Board accept as the mother of my child without wanting to ‘get involved’ in the process.”

MJ wrinkled her nose in adorable distaste. “They can _do_ that?”

“I’d rather not give them the opportunity, you know what I mean?”

MJ stirred her drink. “Well, I hope for your sake you find someone before they decide to step in.”

“I’m sure I will, MJ. After being turned down by you, I’m prepared for everything.”

\---

‘Actually,’ MJ texted him after they parted ways. ‘I am still extremely insulted and offended and pissed off at you.’

‘How much grovelling do I have to do to fix that?’

‘I wouldn’t say no to a nice pair of Louboutins to start.’

‘They’re yours.’

‘Just remember this is just to start, Parker.’

Then she sent him a line of smiling poop emojis, because apparently he was friends with only the most mature of adults.

\---

Felicia Hardy laughed in his face before kicking him off the rooftop he met her on.

He figured he had that one coming, all things considered.

\---

“What about Betty-?”

“No.”

\---

“Oh, what about that girl - Cindy?”

“ _No._ ”

\---

“I supposed Carlie isn’t an option, either?”

“No, Harry, Carlie is not an option.”

\---

“You could always go full on mad scientist and clone yourself-”

“ _Absolutely not._ ”

\---

“You know, Pete, for a guy who knows so many gorgeous women, all of them seem to hate your guts.”

“You’re not actually helping, you do realize that, don’t you Harry?”

“I’m supposed to be helping?”

“ _Ugh._ ”

\---

A month into his ‘project’ for the Board, Peter ran into Johnny Storm again. 

Or, rather, the Peter ran into Johnny Storm in his bed, again.

“Please tell me you’re at least wearing underwear this time?” Peter asked, stripping down to his own boxer-briefs before falling face first into his bed next to Johnny, too tired to really care what the answer was.

“Yeah, I just took a clean pair of yours,” Johnny grumbled, shifting just enough to get the covers over Peter before draping himself across Peter’s back, running his palm down Peter’s spine.

Peter didn’t want to think about how nice it felt.

Peter eyes snapped back open. “...wait, seriously?”

“ _No_ , webhead, not really. I have my pride, and your underwear is all terrible and scratchy. You have money now, Pete - as a personal favor to me, buy yourself some really nice underwear.” Peter didn’t have to be looking at him to know he was rolling his eyes. “...you don’t look like you’ve had a building dropped on you today, so what’s up?”

Was that why Johnny was petting him? Checking for injuries?

“Today was actually pretty nice as far as Spider business goes. It’s the _Parker_ business that’s kicking my butt.” Peter turned so that he could look at Johnny, who was braced up on one elbow as he looked down at Peter. “...what about you? What brings you here?”

“...didn’t want to be anywhere else, really.” Johnny shrugged a shoulder, too casual and carefree for what should’ve been an awkward position. “You know Medusa and I called it quits, and I didn’t feel like being alone.”

“...so you waited for me mostly naked in my bed...alone?”

Johnny flicked Peter between the eyes. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Peter thought maybe he did. Sort of.

“The Board wants me to have a baby,” he said into his pillow. “And since I can’t actually explain to them why that would be a bad idea without it becoming a public scandal or outing myself as Spider-Man…”

“Ouch,” Johnny winced, but he was chuckling. “Now you’re trying to find a lucky lady to have a kid with?”

“Someone I can tolerate to raise a kid with, at the very least.”

“And lemme guess - they all hate you?”

“Hate is a very strong word, Jonathan.” Johnny arched an eyebrow at him. “...they either hate me, or said no. I know I offended MJ.”

“Of course you did. You know there's always egg banks, right?”

Peter blinked. “There is?”

“Yeah, like how there's sperm banks. Just go to one of those.”

Peter blinked again. Huh. “Torch, you’re a genius.”

“Nah, you’re just dumb. Go to sleep, Pete.”

Peter let his eyes drift shut as Johnny's hand finally slowed to a stop, a warm and comforting weight between his shoulder blades.

\---

So, of course before he could talk to Anna Maria about Johnny's idea, he was kidnapped by aliens in the middle of getting dressed. 

Because _of course_ he was.

Fuck his life.

\---

“-so you have been selected from your planet to give our Queen your genetic material and contribute to our grand race,” the alien was saying to him, her (he thought the alien was a her, anyway - it was hard to tell with aliens, sometimes, and it would be rude to interrupt the conversation to ask about pronouns _now_ ) skin a cool blue under the swirling lights of the Queen’s throne room; it had been an almost shimmering purple when he had first shown up, her large black eyes sparkling as she blinked at him, and the delicate tentacles that fell from her head like hair curled almost sweetly at her pointed chin.

The Queen looked down at him, beautiful and imperious, eyes like the depths of the cosmos, all knowing and powerful - and for a moment, Peter thought about it.

‘You’d think at this point in my life, tentacles would be a turn off,’ he thought to himself. And then 'Anna Maria would kill me if my heir was half alien.’

“I can’t have a baby with your Queen,” he said, running on instinct. “I’m trying to have a baby with Johnny Storm.”

Because every alien knew who the Fantastics were, right?

“Oh…” the alien turned towards her queen and spoke in the musical, sing-song chirping that all the aliens on this ship spoke. 

Part of him thought they were laughing at him.

The Queen spoke, and where the translator's voice was like tiny, delicate porcelain bells, the Queen’s voice was deep and echoing, resonating like church bells in Peter's bones and, weirdly, giving him the deepest sense of peace he had ever known. He wanted to listen to her forever.

The translator turned to Peter, her face unreadable. “My Queen shall address you directly.”

Peter turned his attention to the Queen, holding himself up straighter, as dignified as he could be in his underwear and wearing only one sock. “Your Majesty?”

“Doctor Parker of The Spider Family,” she said to him, her face gentle and kind, her voice a redoubling sort of echo that was both melodious and hypnotic. “We understand your plight _completely_.”

\---

The next thing Peter knew, he was in an alien bathroom with a cup that had a sealed top, and wasn't really sure what he had just agreed to. “...what?”

“Perform the act that will allow your genetic material to be deposited into the cup, Doctor Parker.”

“We’re not having sex?”

The translator giggled at him, shoulders shaking. “You think we would allow a _male_ to touch our Queen, much less a _human_ one? Ew, no. Absolutely not.”

Peter was only a little offended. “I’ll have you know I am considered quite the catch back home! I mean it! From the neck down, total heartthrob!”

“Cup. Now.”

Peter sighed and peered at the sealed cup again. “Do I get some privacy at least?”

“You have twenty Earth minutes.” The door clicked shut.

Peter sighed again. He didn’t even remember what he agreed to to get to this point, but the Queen had made it clear that he would be repaid for his donation to the cause. Or something.

So much for name-dropping Johnny Storm to get him out of trouble.

It probably got him in _more_ trouble.

Peter shrugged, opened the cup, dropped his shorts, and thought of Johnny’s shoulders, and how he had felt pressed up behind Peter in bed.

He was _so_ going to hell for this.

\---

They dropped him back into his bathroom with little ceremony, and Peter's Webware had three missed calls on it, and four messages from Anna Maria that boiled down to 'where the hell are you?!’ that showed up all at once as he vaguely remembered something about a communication block.

It had been three hours since he was abducted.

“Anna Maria, you’re not gonna believe me when I tell you,” Peter muttered, picking up the sock he had dropped before he was taken.

\---

“You _gave_ the aliens your _genetic materials?_ ” Anna Maria demanded as she followed him into his office.

“Honestly, they are probably one of the more upstanding groups of people who wanted it for surprisingly noble purposes. I’m helping repopulate a species, Anna Maria.”

“You _had sex_ with an alien _Queen_ because they _needed your genetic materials_?”

“Oh, no. I, uh. You know.” He flailed his hands awkwardly in a way that was supposed to indicate masturbation to her. “Into a cup.”

Anna Maria scowled at him. “You _gave them_ your _genetic materials_ and you didn’t even get _tentacle sex_ out of the deal?”

“I think tentacles are a turn-off for me at this point.” At Anna Maria’s scathing look, Peter hunched in on himself. “...they said men weren’t allowed to touch their Queen, much less a human one,” he admitted, defeated by Anna Maria’s scorn.

Anna Maria looked contemplative. “Maybe they have the right idea after all.”

“ _Hey!_ ”

“You’re the one who just admitted to liking tentacle sex, Peter.”

Harry looked between them as he walked in with a cardboard tray of coffee. “...do I want to know what I just walked in on?”

“No,” Anna Maria and Peter said in unison.

“Riiight. I’m just. Gonna leave these here for you two, and go where people are _not_ talking about tentacle sex.”

“Avoid Lab Seven, then,” Peter said, taking his coffee from Harry, beaming at him when Harry gave him a worried look.

Once the door closed behind Harry, Anna Maria turned to Peter. “What is going on in Lab Seven, Peter?”

“Anime Figurine Guy is working in there.”

“...he has a name, Peter.”

“I know. But you also know why I don’t use it when not talking to him to his face.”

“You’re gonna slip up one of these days, Peter.”

Peter shrugged. “I’m a CEO, am I really expected to remember all if my employees names?”

“You know all the scientists, Peter.”

Peter sighed. “Can we get back to you yelling at me about giving my spooge to aliens, again?”

“I just can’t believe you _did_ that!”

“Yeah, well, it was for a good cause - by the way, Johnny Storm had a pretty good idea about the ‘the board wants me to have a baby’ thing.”

“Oh Lord, what?”

“Egg banks.”

Anna Maria blinked. “... Huh. Smart. I’ll research the best ones.”

Peter nodded and he and Anna Maria sipped their coffees simultaneously, then cringed and swapped cups, Peter handing her her 'black with one sugar' monstrosity as she passed him his flavor syrup and whipped cream monstrosity (four pumps of raspberry, six pumps of vanilla, three shots of espresso, and a caramel drizzle). 

“I still don’t understand how you can drink that,” they said to each other, and then they frowned.

“...this is what Harry is talking about when he says we’re drift compatible, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, probably. Next time I have to punch giant monsters in the face in an equally giant robot, wanna co-pilot with me?”

“Not on your life, Parker,” she said, with a grin.

“Shame. We could have a really awesome Jaeger name.”

“If you say Itsy Bitsy Spider, I'm nut-punching you.”

Peter sipped his coffee as he crossed his legs and wisely, for the first time in his life, said nothing.

\---

A week later, the Translator showed up again with a large box in her hands.

Of course, as with all things relating to these aliens (what did they call themselves again? He gave them his genetic material and he couldn't even remember what they call themselves, Aunt May would be so disappointed with him), she appeared in front of him as he was getting out of the shower.

Peter would deny later that his scream was high pitched and borderline shrieky, but the fact that he ripped the towel rack off the wall trying to cover himself spoke for itself.

“Dr. Parker of the Spider Clan, I have come with your payment from The Queen.”

Peter stared at her, mouth working like a fish’s. “I-you-what- _how_ -uh, payment?”

The Translator looked at him like he was an idiot. “The agreement that was made that, in exchange for your materials, we will make you an infant, one of you and Johnny Storm, of the Human Torch’s materials.”

Oh. _Oh no._

“... there's a _baby_ in that box?”

“She is an egg. Because of her human based nature, she will take the requisite nine Earth months to develop and be born. You must keep her safe, until then.”

“And, you know, after, too.” Peter said, distantly. Baby. His baby. His baby with _Johnny Storm_.

“I do not presume to know what kind of parent you are, Dr. Parker.”

“... I guess we’ll find out, huh?” Peter stared at the box. “So, what did Johnny say when you told him?”

The Translator blinked at him. “Told him what?”

“Why you needed his genetic materials.”

She wrinkled her nose cutely. “I didn't. I didn't ask him for them.”

Peter stared at her. “You _stole_ his _genetic materials_?”

“What, like it’s hard?”

Peter flinched. He had said similar things about Johnny, who was always willing to drop his pants if someone was gorgeous and offering, and Johnny had been the center of more than a few tabloid scandals in his life, but to hear the Translator say that about him made Peter want to punch her. He didn’t, because she was holding his (and Johnny's, _oh god_ ) unborn baby in her arms, and it wasn't like he thought she cared about his opinions of her anyway. “Uh.”

“He is your partner, anyway, is he not?” The Translator continued, unheeding of Peter's internal dilemma. “It is your job to tell him about this.” She thrust the box into Peter's hands. “Keep the egg safe and warmed to ninety-eight point six degrees Fahrenheit, do not exceed one hundred and two degrees Fahrenheit between now and when she is born.”

Peter nodded, feeling a little sick. “... does she have to stay in the box?”

The Translator stared at him, unreadable. “... no, she does not have to stay in that box. You can even carry her, if you wish. But keep in mind the temperature.”

“Yeah, yes of course.” Peter carefully opened the box and stared down at the egg nestled in there, the size of a regulation basketball and polished smooth like a giant dark opal. “Oh… and she’s human?”

“As human as you and Johnny Storm are, Dr. Parker.”

Peter stroked a gentle finger tip over the outside of the egg. It felt warm. Alive. “Hello, little one…”

The Translator watched him. “... Congratulations on your new daughter, Dr. Parker.”

He found himself sitting down on the toilet, unable to tear his eyes away from the egg he held in his hands. “Yeah, thanks.”

When he looked up, he was alone.

\---

Anna Maria stared at the egg that Peter had wrapped in a soft sweater as he drafted plans to turn one of the spare rooms in his apartment into a temperature controlled clean room.

“You have an alien baby.”

“She's not an alien, just born of alien tech,” Peter corrected absently, flipping to a different screen on his tablet to start planning out the nursery he’d set up in a different room. Maybe paint a galaxy on the ceiling with glow in the dark paint for the stars and planets, _that_ would be cool, right?

“You have an alien baby with Johnny Storm.”

“Yep.” Why did people leave their ceilings blank white anyway? Who wanted to look at that? That was boring. More people would be happier with galaxies on their ceilings in glow in the dark paint.

“That he, presumably, doesn't know about,” Anna Maria continued, bewildered.

“Yep.”

“Peter, this is insane! You cannot have an alien baby with Johnny Storm! You’re not even _out_!”

“Why would I be?” Why was all baby furniture in pastels? Why was the stuff for girls nothing but _pink_? What if his daughter didn’t _like_ pink? 

“What?”

Wait, what? “What?”

Anna Maria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Peter. We cannot spin this as you having a baby with Johnny Storm via a surrogate when you are not out in a relationship with Johnny Storm. Is Johnny Storm even _gay_?”

“Pansexual.” Peter glared at his tablet. He was brilliant; it should not be this hard to figure out a nursery for a baby girl that didn’t try to force gender roles down her throat. “If you are hot and offering, nine times out of ten he is ready and willing to try anything at least once.”

“And are you?”

Peter looked up from the tablet, finally, to give Anna Maria his full attention. “Am I _what_ , Anna Maria?”

“Gay.”

Peter chewed on his lower lip. “I’m… not exactly _unmoved_ by a good looking dude, but-I’ve never-no one _knows that_. I’ve never been with a guy, and _everyone_ has the Captain America dream, right? So. I’m. Pansexual, too, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“Anna Maria, this is the first time I've said it out loud to anyone, have a _little_ sympathy.”

She stared at him, stunned. “I didn’t even think of that. Oh, Peter, I'm sorry-!”

Peter shook his head, taking a slow, deep breath. “I don’t want to make any sort of statement until I've had the chance to talk to Johnny, anyway.”

“And you're going to do that _today_ , right?” Anna Maria stressed, glaring at him now that she was back on track.

“Can you clear my schedule? Because no matter what happens with Johnny, I need a perfectly temperature controlled clean room and I need to start getting the nursery set-up and I needed it started yesterday.”

Anna Maria took the tablet from him, looking over his notes. “... And I assume you want me to keep an eye on the egg?”

“If you would?”

“I’m sure it-”

“She.”

“... _she’s_ not going to give me too much trouble. Then again, she’s half _you_ \- she’ll probably find a way to sass me from in there as a zygote.”

“It’s the Parker way,” Peter grinned at her, helpless and grateful that Anna Maria didn’t let anything faze her for more than a second.

“... Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I _am_ sorry I forced you to out yourself to me like that.”

Peter shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, still not as bad as coming out as Spider-Man.”

“... oh God.” Anna Maria covered her face with one hand.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m just. Imagining one of those Pride stickers. Only in Spider-Man colors. Arachnid and Proud.”

Peter snorted. “That would be _amazing._ ”

“I spend too much time around you. Your terrible sense of humor has infected me.”

“I have been told I tend to grow on people.”

“Like a _fungus_. Go talk to your baby daddy, Peter. I’ll get started on this.”

Peter stared at his hands for a long moment. “...why is he the baby daddy?”

Anna Maria pointed imperiously, not taking her eyes off the tablet. “Go.”

Peter went.

\---

Johnny’s apartment made Peter’s heart ache. Johnny was a person designed for, if not opulence, then at least _some_ amount of luxury. The apartment was almost barren, less like someone lived there and more like some place to stop for the night on a road trip when the first five choices of hotel were full.

Johnny didn’t even have a single poster on the walls.

“What’s up, Pete?” Johnny asked him, a little pointed.

Peter supposed he couldn’t blame him for that. Peter was living in what amounted to Johnny’s old house. Maybe he could convince Johnny to move in once he found out about the baby. Johnny would want to be closer to their daughter, Peter was sure.

He just had to build up to it, first.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Eh. I’m okay. Just. Thinking.”

“Did it hurt?”

Johnny rolled his eyes at Peter. “I am graciously ignoring that. No, just thinking about how happy I am all those paternity cases filed against me have been fake.”

Peter went cold. _Oh…_ “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It's better for me, I think. I am much better suited to attractive bachelor.”

“Johnny Storm, the hot single uncle?”

Johnny shot him a glare. “Uncle to who, exactly, Pete? They're all _gone-_ ”

“My kid,” Peter struggled to keep his tone light, his smile easy. “I took your advice on the egg bank thing. Found a surrogate and everything. In nine months, I'll be a dad.”

Johnny stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s… it’s what I came down to tell you. I could really use your help.”

Johnny rushed forward and hugged Peter tight. “That's amazing, Pete! Of course I'll help, anything you need!”

 _I am a horrible monster._ Peter hugged Johnny back. “Maybe when the kid is born, you’ll move in?”

“Huh?”

“Baby sitter. You’re really the only person I trust looking after my kid if she turns out to have. You know. Spider powers.”

Johnny frowned at him, the hug loosening but Johnny didn't pull away completely. “Seriously?”

“You were great with Val and Franklin. Besides, you’ve got nine months to think about it.”

“So you just want a free live-in babysitter.”

“I’d make you an expense account?” Peter grinned at him, hoping that it looked better than he felt.

Johnny could never know the baby was his, too.

Never ever _ever_.

But Peter would be damned if he kept Johnny out of the kid’s life completely. It wouldn't be fair, to either of them.

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Sure. I’m paid up on the lease for this place for a few more months yet, but when the time comes, I'll move in and help with the baby.”

Peter let Johnny go. “Bless your heart, Matchstick.”

“Yeah, yeah, bite me.” Johnny looked Peter up and down. “...sheesh, you’re gonna be a father.”

“Yup. Please don't make my baby love you more than me.”

“Too late, it’s already happened,” Johnny grinned at him and pushed his hair out of his face.

_On the one hand, I hope our daughter looks like me so I never have to explain myself ever. On the other hand, she could do worse than having that smile._

“You’re a real pal, Torchie. Really.”

“The best. So what did Aunt May say about the baby?”

Peter paled.

Oh God.

_He forgot to tell Aunt May._

Johnny stared at him. “ _You didn't tell Aunt May?_ ”

“I’ve been busy!” Peter squeaked.

“Oh my fucking _God_ , you literal human disaster, get out.”

“Wha-”

“Get out and go tell her right now - I can’t believe I'm the first person you told you were going to have a baby - fucking hell, Pete!”

“You’re- you’re important-” Peter blurted, and Johnny blinked at him, stunned. “-to me. It was important to me that you knew first.” _Because she’s just as much your baby as she is mine. Because we’re more of a family now than when you died and left me your place on the team, if that's even possible. Because if I were smart, I'd put a damn ring on your finger._

Wait. Back up. _What_.

Not the time. Peter pushed that last thought from his mind and shook his head a little to clear it. “I’ll - I have to go see Aunt May, now. But we’ll talk later?”

“Yes, yes, go!”

Peter fled the apartment, needing to get as much space as he could between himself, Johnny, and his guilt as he possibly could.

\---

Peter knocked on the door, skin buzzing in a way that had nothing to do with Spider-senses, and blinked when Jay opened it, J Jonah Jameson and his son sitting on the couch just past Jay’s shoulder.

Oh _great_.

“Peter!” Jay said, warm and fond as he pulled him into a hug. “We had no idea you were coming!”

“Surprise…” Peter said weakly, hugging him back. “I had no idea you guys would have company…”

“Oh, they just were in the neighborhood and dropped by - your aunt will be thrilled to see you. May! You’ll never guess who’s here!”

Aunt May stepped out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel before her face lit up in a grin. “Peter!” She rushed forward to hug him. “Oh, Peter, it's so good to see you!”

Guilt. Guilt guilt guilt. _Ugh._ “I wanted to tell you something. It’s… actually good that you’re all here, but this doesn’t leave the house, okay?” Peter eyed JJ. “Please?”

JJ rolled his eyes. “I won’t publish anything I don’t have a press release for from your company.”

“It’s not about the company. It’s. Um. Let's… let’s sit.” Peter shuffled over to the arm chair in the living room as Jay and May settled down on the love seat together. “I wanted to tell you that… that in nine months, I'll be a father.”

They stared at him, May’s hand pressed to her chest as John slowly lifted the remote and shut off the TV. “We weren't aware you were with someone.”

“Oh - no, I'm not seeing anyone right now.”

JJ glared. “Parker, are you being blackmailed?”

“JJ-!”

“ _John Jonah Jameson-_ ”

“Jesus Christ, Dad, what the _hell-_ ”

Oh _lord_. “No! I, uh, I went to an egg bank, and there's a surrogate.”

JJ glared at him for a few moments longer before settling back into the couch cushions. “... good.”

“Good?!”

JJ glanced at May. “Means he put a lot of thought into it, that he didn’t just go out and knock up some tart looking for fifteen minutes of fame and a free ride for the rest of her life.”

Aunt May wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Honestly, JJ, I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”

“Hmph.”

“Well, congratulations, Peter,” Jay said, covering May's hand with his own. “We’re glad to hear about you becoming a father. Raising a child on your own isn't easy.”

“I know, but I'm going to have a lot of help. MJ already claimed the role of Godmother.”

May bit her lower lip. “Peter, you understand why we’re worried, don't you? Your friends can't always be there to take care of the baby for you, and there's your company-”

“Aunt May, Johnny Storm’s agreed to move in and help when the baby is born.”

“The Human Torch...? That's right, you are friendly with him, aren't you? You did bring him to my wedding, after all...”

Peter flushed. “He’s a good friend, that's all. We met through Spider-Man, and he’s good with kids.”

Aunt May wrinkled her nose. “That part doesn't make it into the papers. It seems like every time he _is_ in the papers he’s not wearing a shirt. Or pants.”

“That’s because Dr. Richards and Sue kept their kids out of the papers as much as they could. ...and… and with them-” _gone_ “-missing and all… well. I _am_ living in Johnny's old house, and having him around to help with the baby is reassuring if someone tries to kidnap her.”

“Her?”

Eek. “My gut tells me the baby will be a girl.”

“Your gut isn’t where that baby is growing,” May sniffed.

Peter chuckled weakly. _You have no idea._ “The surrogate mother is safe in a secret location with the best care money can buy. She signed an NDA and doesn’t want any contact with the baby once they're born, which works out well for me.”

The lie felt slick and polished, good enough for anyone who asked, he thought. He’d have to tell Anna Maria about it.

“...are you dating Johnny Storm?” John asked, eyeing Peter with a frown.

Peter laughed weakly. “I wish.”

Another wave of silence and Peter facepalmed. Great.

“Uh.”

“Peter…?”

“Surprise, I’m pansexual, too, fun fun fun I’m just gonna go before I over share with anything else.”

May’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, faster than Peter thought she could move. “Peter. You know I love you, no matter what, right?”

Peter dragged in a deep breath, his eyes stinging. “Aunt May…”

“You might not have been ready to tell us about this part of yourself, but we know now, and we still love you. And I’m glad I know, I'm glad you’re opening up to me now.”

“Now?”

Peter didn’t have to open his eyes to know the look May was giving JJ. “You’ve known Peter since he was a teenager, JJ, you know just as well as I do that Peter will lie through his teeth to keep people from worrying about him.”

“JJ and I had a very different relationship than you and I do, Aunt May-”

“-And I still know exactly what she’s talking about, Parker,” JJ growled.

John shook his head, chuckling. “It’s fine, Peter. May's right - you might not have meant to tell us this way, but we’re all glad we know, and nothing you said is gonna leave the house.”

Peter nodded, hands fisted on his knees. Shit, he needed to get out of here before he came out as Spider-Man, next.

“... So have you thought of names for the baby?”

Peter shook head, feeling out of sorts. “This is all still kind of… abstract for me, you know? Right now the baby is just a little bundle of cells - a person _in potentia_. And… names are important. People judge you based on your name, you know.”

“Which means you absolutely have names picked out, don’t you?” May asked, amused.

“Benjamin Reed for a boy, Gwendolyn May for a girl.” And he couldn't get Johnny's input on names, because Johnny could never know the baby was his.

Aunt May sniffled. “Oh _Peter…_ ”

John frowned. “Reed?”

Peter shrugged, looking between them all. “Dr. Richards was a good friend and mentor to me.”

Jay sipped his coffee. “And you met him through your friendship with Johnny Storm, who you met through Spider-Man.”

“If you want to connect me to Kevin Bacon, Susan Storm made out with him before she and Reed got married,” Peter offered with a sheepish grin.

John snorted, then cleared his throat. “This is actually really awesome news, Peter. The kid’ll be walking around by the time I come back.”

Peter blinked. “...back?”

“Mmhm. I’m being deployed for two years - can’t actually tell you where, because classified, but I’ll have email access.”

Peter grinned. “I will send you so many pictures. So many. Videos, too.”

“Good deal,” John grinned at him. “Gotta make sure I’m the favorite cousin early.”

“Oh man, I am gonna get to be on the front lines in the war for my child’s affections between you and Johnny Storm, aren’t I?”

Everyone laughed, and Peter grinned, even as he felt sick.

Everything was _terrible_.

\---

You could say what you wanted about Anna Maria Marconi (no you couldn't - especially if you did it in front of Peter because honestly he had gone off on people for less), but when she took on a project, it got done with grace and efficiency. Peter got his temperature-controlled clean room in a week - he wasn’t even sure how she managed it, it just _happened_ \- and the start of the nursery, with a door that connected it to what would be Johnny's room in Peter's apartment.

They were going to be roommates again, and Peter's brain was doing that weird thing it did where it liked to imagine Peter and Johnny actually sharing a room. A bed. A _life_. 

As a couple.

What the fuck, brain?

And, sure, Johnny was a good looking guy, and Peter would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to him, but _everyone_ was attracted to Johnny Storm. It was a fact of life. Water is wet, the sky is blue, Peter was madly in love with his best friend Johnny Storm.

...wait, what?

Oh no.

_Oh no._

“Anna Maria?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“I think I've been in love with my best friend for almost a decade.”

She didn’t bother looking up from her tablet. “Does Harry know you feel this way about him?”

“Not Harry. Johnny.”

Anna Maria paused in her scrolling before looking up at him. “Johnny Storm.”

Peter nodded, not looking at her. “Uh huh.”

“The father of your child, Johnny Storm.”

“Now, see, you sounded less skeptical when you called him my baby-daddy,” Peter protested weakly.

“The same Johnny Storm you decided _can't know_ he is the father of your child?” She said, voice flat and hard because they had already had this fight at least three times in the past week, that Johnny had a right to know and after explaining it the first (three) time(s) Peter had just snarled at her that the conversation was over.

(“The conversation might be over, but this fight sure as hell isn’t!” Anna Maria had yelled back, and Peter locked himself in his bedroom, curled around the egg, and pressed his cheek to the smooth shell until Anna Maria left.)

“I already told you why he can't know.”

“Because you're a coward? Yeah, I got that part.” She waved her hand dismissively. “So, what I am understanding here is that you are in love with Johnny Storm, are having a baby with him, and aren't going to tell him anything about either of those things, right?”

“... yes. That is an accurate summary of the situation.”

“ _Why?!_ ”

“Because he’s my friend. Because if he knew, he’d never speak to me again and I can’t lose him.”

“He really would abandon his own daughter?”

“No, but we would _definitely_ be those parents where one hates the other and they can barely stand to be in the same room together and only tolerate each other because of their kid.”

Anna Maria gave him a flat look. “Have a lot of experience with that?”

“No, but I know people who have. I don’t want that to be us.”

“... So what _are_ you going to do? Just pine away for him?”

“I guess.”

She looked skeptical. “You said he could never know he’s the baby's biological father, but… what if he thought he was her stepfather?”

Peter stared at her. “What.”

“He’s going to be living here, isn’t he?”

“To help with the _baby._ ”

“Yes, which gives you plenty of time to plan your seduction.”

Peter stared at her. “...you. want me to use my daughter - my sweet, innocent daughter who has done nothing wrong ever - as a tool for seduction of my best friend who also happens to be her other father?”

“Hey, you're the one who was going to pine away like some regency era romance novel heroine. I am here to bake cookies and get shit done and the cookies are already in the oven.”

Peter continued to stare at her. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“He’s stuck with your dumb ass this long, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“But- but sex changes things!”

Anna Maria fixed him with the same look she gave him when she felt he was being particularly dense. “Peter. I am saying this as your friend and as someone who has taken over micromanaging your life. You have known Johnny for most of your life by this point. Stop thinking about the ways it could go wrong. Baby steps, Peter. What about all the ways it could go right?”

Peter gave her a flat look. “...Clearly you’ve never met me before, so hi, my name is Peter Parker and nothing in my life goes right. Ever. _Ev. Ver._ ”

“Yes, but I am here to save you from yourself. So listen to me, and put the mack on Johnny Storm if that is a thing that you want and he wants. If he says _no_ , then you accept it and _move on_ , and it can be something you laugh about in ten years. Bad enough you had a baby with him without his consent, in the first place”

“That was not my fault!” Peter sputtered. “You- that’s not my fault! It’s not like I planned on this happening!”

“Stop yelling, you’re upsetting the egg,” Anna Maria had discovered that the fastest way to get Peter to calm down was to imply that he was causing distress to the egg. He wasn’t sure _how_ he felt about the fact that it worked so well, but it did. “And I know that, which is why I’m helping you land the guy and not yelling at you for inviting him to live with you like a dumbass.”

Peter groaned, flopping back on his couch with careful consideration for his still aching shoulder - a present from being thrown into a building as Spider-Man earlier that day. “Anna Maria-”

“All I am saying is - you have time to plan your strategy.” The timer on his oven buzzed, and Anna Maria set the egg in Peter’s lap. “I’m going to go get those out of the oven.”

“...do I get to eat any this time?” Peter asked hopefully, petting the smooth surface of the egg as he rested it on his stomach.

“When they’re cooled - I don’t care if you have super healing or whatever.”

“I suppose I can wait that long. In theory.”

“You’re a disaster, Peter Parker. A complete and utter disaster.”

“Yes, but you like me anyway?”

Anna Maria sighed heavily. “God help me, but yes.” There was the sound of a cookie sheet being placed gently on a rack and another sheet being slid into the oven. “...have you thought about Godparents yet?”

Peter groaned.

\---

The months leading up to Johnny moving in were… awkward. But only for Peter, because Johnny had no idea what was going on. Peter, on the other hand, was furnishing Johnny’s room with excruciatingly luxurious things: expensive silk sheets, decadently fluffy pillows, and the most comfortable mattress money could buy (according to Johnny). And if sometimes, after a hard patrol, Peter would come and slip into what would be Johnny’s bed instead of his own and try to imagine Johnny’s scent in fabrics warmed by his body heat, well. That was his business. 

Just like how if he came in here to imagine all those things and jerk off with a bitten off moan of Johnny’s name, that would _also_ be just his business.

In the meantime, Johnny’s bedroom was done, the baby’s nursery was done (along with the new company daycare center with on-site pediatrician, improved parental leave and benefits for expecting parents and people with children under twenty-one which had been met with grumbling from the Board but positive feelings from the people who _actually_ worked for him so Peter considered it a good move), and as it drew closer and closer to the due date, Peter found himself sitting in the clean room with the egg, staring at it, talking to it more and more - beyond when he would sprawl on the sofa with the egg on his chest as he read stories to it every day before he went out as Spider-Man.

“I’m so worried about you, Gwendy,” He murmured softly, stroking a finger over the smooth surface of the shell. “Not just about people finding out I got you from aliens and taking you away from me, but just… being a good father to you. I’m gonna try - I’m gonna try _so hard_ for you, Gwen. And Johnny - he’ll be good to you, too. I know it. He might… he might not realize that he is your father just as much as I am, biologically speaking, but he’ll be a good father to you. I’m gonna do everything I can to make him stay. Do you think it’ll work, Gwen? With me and Johnny?”

The egg under his hand shuddered, and started to crack.

\---

Anna Maria sat next to Peter - she was the only one of his friends and family who knew the true origins of Gwendolyn, after all, and thus the only one he could call to sit with him while she was born. 

Together, holding hands, they watched as the egg shook and cracked, splitting in a jagged line as a tiny fist forced its way out, and the egg fell open revealing the tiny, perfectly normal looking human baby drawing a breath and crying out. Peter picked her up, wrapping her in the softest baby blanket he had (and he might have gone a little over board buying baby things - nevermind that MJ and Harry had also bought several baby things after Peter refused to have a baby shower) and cuddling her close. “Hello, starshine…”

Anna Maria made a choked noise, and what suspiciously sounded like a sniffle. “I’ll - I’ll get Dr. Quinn on the line.”

Dr. Michaela Quinn (whose name was a happy accident as far as Peter was concerned - she, however, was less than enthused about it) was also brought up to speed on Gwendolyn after signing what was quite possibly the most terrifying NDA that Peter had ever laid eyes on. Dr. Quinn had taken the news that Peter's baby was a gift from aliens with barely a hitch in her step. 

(“I’m a New Yorker, Dr. Parker,” she had told him. “The fact that your baby is a gift from an alien queen is not the weirdest thing I've heard.”

“...What was the weirdest?”

“My brother is a Red Sox fan.”

“That’s just a betrayal.”

“I _know_ , right?!”)

Peter nodded, cuddling the baby - Gwendolyn, his little Gwendy - close to his chest.

He traced a fingertip over the bridge of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the adorable lock of nearly white-blonde hair curled damply against her forehead.

She had Johnny's eyes.

Peter groped for his Webware, tapping out a note to himself: Gwendolyn May Parker, born 12:27am February 9th.

“-ter? Peter!”

“Huh?” Peter looked up from his daughter's face to look at Anna Maria.

“Dr. Quinn said to meet her in the examination room.”

Peter adjusted the blanket around Gwen and got to his feet, cuddling her close.

“You sent out a birth announcement?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay. Once Dr. Quinn looks her over, we’ll get a shot of her to add to the company-wide announcement and press release.” 

“Uh huh. We should start doing that every month.”

“What?”

“Company wide birth announcements. Do them at the end of the month, or something. Maybe a cake.”

Anna Maria stared at him for a long moment. “...sounds good. I’ll talk to a baker.”

Peter nodded as Gwen fussed in his arms.

\--

Dr. Quinn was prepped and waiting for them in the examination room when Peter strolled in with Gwen in his arms. “Hey-”

“Give me the baby, we can do pleasantries later, Dr. Parker.”

Peter, with surprising reluctance, handed Gwen to her.

Dr. Quinn made several notes into a recorder as she examined Gwen, measuring her and weighing her, checking her over for anything that could be out of place. “Seventeen and a half inches from crown to heel, and five pounds three ounces, so while she’s a bit on the small side she is otherwise a perfectly healthy little girl. I'd have to take some blood, and some swabs from her cheek and such to see if there was anything less obvious.”

Peter nodded, sniffling a little.

“Let's hold off on doing that for a few days, Dr. Quinn,” Anna Maria said quickly. “He’s-”

“Not really listening right now, yeah, I can tell. ...she is a cutie, though.”

“She gets it from her father,” Anna Maria said, dry, and Dr. Quinn snorted.

Rude.

Anna Maria elbowed him in the leg.

“What, I'm basking here,” Peter grumbled at her.

“Picture. Birth announcement. Call Johnny Storm. Then cuddle and maybe sleep, and definitely take the next few days off, I don’t want to deal with some massive crisis because you were too distracted at work.”

“Fair.” Peter took a picture of Gwen, surrounded by the fluffy green baby blanket and dressed in the soft plain cotton onesie Dr. Quinn had seemingly pulled out of nowhere, and sent it out to “everyone” - Aunt May and Jay, JJ, John, MJ, and Harry. People he knew personally, civilian-wise. He opened a new message and sent it again, this time to a different set of people - Steve, Sam, Tony, Jessica, Cindy, Luke, and Miles.

To Johnny, he simply sent 'she’s born, I need you’ and got back a flame emoji in response.

“There is the matter of her birth certificate, Dr. Parker.”

Peter looked over at Dr. Quinn. “Put down mine and Johnny’s names as the parents - I did research on this, you know? According to the lies I’ve told about this, the surrogate renounced her parental rights. And Johnny is, biologically speaking, her other father.”

Dr. Quinn nodded and Anna Maria rested a hand on Peter’s forearm. “Peter, I’ll handle more of the paperwork about Gwen, okay? You should head upstairs.”

Peter nodded, cuddling Gwen close as he ignored his WebWare letting him know he had several text messages from people - probably wishing him well with the baby.

He made his way back to his apartment and sank down onto his bed with Gwen on his chest.

He let his eyes close as he leaned back into the pillows. ' _Just for a few seconds,_ ’ he thought to himself. ' _Just for a few-_ ’

Gwen’s weight shifting on Peter's chest woke him from his sleep and he lashed out to grab the wrist of whoever was lifting her before his eyes were even open.

The skin under his hand was almost familiarly warm.

“Easy, Pete, s’just me.”

Peter opened his eyes, peering blearily through the pre-dawn light of his bedroom at the intruder. “...Johnny?”

“Hey there, Spider-Dad,” Johnny said with a grin, lifting Gwen into his arms as he sat on the edge of the bed. “So this is her, huh?”

Peter nodded, yawning jaw crackingly wide. “Gwendolyn May, meet Jonathan Lowell Spencer.” (art by Millielitre)

“ _Ugh_ , stop.”

Peter chuckled weakly as he watched Johnny with Gwen, his heart constricting painfully in his chest.

He had probably made a terrible mistake, inviting Johnny here. He wasn’t going to survive this. Not without doing something stupid and ruining everything.

Peter leveraged himself up to hook his chin over Johnny’s shoulder. “... Thanks for being here, Johnny.”

“I told Cap and Rogue I was taking paternity leave.” Johnny snorted as he stroked a finger down Gwen’s nose. “I mean, I explained after that you had asked me to help with your baby, but those first glorious seconds of them trying to wrap their heads around me being a dad were beautiful and priceless and I have pictures on my phone.”

“You’re a good man, Johnny Storm,” Peter murmured.

“Yeah, yeah. Butter me up some more, would ya?”

Peter tugged Johnny backward with him as he moved to lie back down. “Stay. Stay here with her. I’ll give you the tour after we sleep.”

Johnny was quiet for a long moment before he laid back, arms around Gwen as he settled against the pillows and Peter plastered himself to Johnny's side, one hand on Gwen's back as his other arm wriggled under Johnny and held him close. Peter tucked his nose against Johnny's throat with a soft, happy noise. “...sleep well, Pete.”

Peter was asleep before he could answer.

\---

He woke up with his leg wrapped around one of Johnny's, and Johnny humming softly under Peter's cheek. “Bzznuh?”

“Well good morning to you, too. I need you to let me up, Gwen needs breakfast.”

Peter blinked blearily at him, then down at the baby, naked save for her diaper, on Johnny's bare chest. “... How the heck did you get your shirt off without waking up anyone?”

“Skill.” Johnny grinned at Peter before shifting slowly and carefully more upright. “She didn't like the detergent I used on my clothes, or on her clothes either - it was starting to irritate her skin.”

It was like a jolt of ice water in his veins as Peter sat up. “Gwen-?!”

“She's _fine_ ,” Johnny rolled his eyes and shifted her so Peter could see her other side, her skin ruddy with upset as she cried, but otherwise fine. “See? She's got Daddy's healing factor.”

Peter rubbed his face with one hand and groaned. “Okay… I’m gonna grab a quick shower - two minutes, not even - and then I’ll make breakfast?”

“Pete, I say this as your friend - I am not going to let you poison your baby with your cooking.”

“She's not getting my cooking, she’s getting formula.”

“No breast milk from the surrogate?” Johnny asked as he got out of the bed easily and padded out of Peter's bedroom and toward the kitchen, and Peter was distracted by the fact that Johnny had managed to get his pants off, too.

“Uh, no, no nothing like that.” Peter licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry at the sight of the two perfect dimples at the small of Johnny’s back, just above the band of his black briefs.

Fucking hell, he was going to _die_.

“Go shower, Pete, I got this.”

Peter watched, reluctant to move from where he could see Johnny prepping Gwen’s bottle one-handed with ease.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…” Johnny sang, low and off-key as he swirled the bottle around.

“How did you ever have a music career, Torchie?”

“I’m gorgeous and autotune well.” Johnny shot him a look. “Are you gonna shower or do I need to help _you_ bathe, too?”

' _Yes, please._ ’ “Right, right, going.”

Peter was almost in the shower when Johnny poked his head into Peter's bathroom, still feeding Gwen. “Hey, can I post pictures of her on the internet?”

Peter screamed and yanked his towel rack off the wall trying to cover himself. “WHAT THE HELL, JOHNNY!?”

Johnny arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Well?”

“Well _what_?!”

“I want to post pictures of Gwen to Instagram - Reed and Sue had a rule against it, I wanna know if you do, too.”

Peter rubbed at his eyes, still holding the towel in front of him. “No, it's fine. Go nuts. Just no nudes - the internet is gross and I will not have my daughter objectified.”

Johnny gave him a flat look. “She’s less than a day old, Pete.”

“The. Internet. Is. Gross.” He saw the comments that people left on Johnny's pictures, and had - with deeply vindictive glee - gone through every single picture and reported all the comments about 'wanting to fuck that pretty boy mouth’ as “abusive content”.

He was a CEO, he was allowed to spend time defending his friend’s honor on the internet instead of doing real work.

“...Yeah, fair. Okay, you got it. Enjoy your shower.”

Johnny winked at him as he left, and Peter yanked the water to cold.

\--

And so it went on like that for days, the utterly distressing news of Gwen's allergy to - as Johnny and Peter suspected and Dr. Quinn confirmed - the soap used to wash her clothes (since the fabric didn't seem to matter), even though it was soap that claimed to be perfect for babies’ sensitive skin.

Johnny spent a lot of time shirtless and holding Gwen (so did Peter, but Johnny was far more distracting).

Peter took a lot of cold showers.

When it was time to go back to work (unfortunately, he could only afford to give himself a few days off for paternity leave. He _was_ the CEO), Johnny shooed him out, but made up for it by sending him the pictures he posted to his social media accounts.

(The first of which had been a shot Johnny took of Gwen asleep on his chest. “Friend of mine just had a baby and asked me to help out! #UncleJohnnyToTheRescue #GwenParkerIsCuterThanU” which had spawned several comments along the lines of “oh god I want to have your babies” “have my babies” and “I don't even have ovaries and they just exploded”.)

Peter sat at his desk and dialed, fingers tapping an erratic beat on his desk.

“Hello, Peter,” Matt Murdock said as he answered his cell phone.

“Hey Magoo,” Peter said, bright and cheerful. “You busy? I have a question.”

“You have your own legal department, now, Peter,” Matt said, amused. “They can answer those questions for you.”

“No no, not legal trouble. It’s about your skin.”

There was a long pause. “You cannot have any of my skin, Peter.”

“No, I mean what you put on it.”

There was another long pause, and Peter could almost imagine Matt pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Is this a weird way of asking me what I’m wearing?”

“Probably Jay Koz, if I know you half as well as I think I do,” Peter laughed. “I’m asking about your _soap_. Laundry soap, bath soap, stuff like that.”

“ _Oh!_ Oh, yeah, I can help with that. What's up?”

“My daughter, Gwen. Ever since she was born, she’s had a hard time with anything on her skin - her diapers are fine, thank God, but clothing is a nightmare. I can't hold her if I’m wearing a shirt, and Johnny is basically holding her all the time so he’s _shirtless_ all the time and _that_ is its own special hell right there, and if we try to put a blanket over her she screams and gets this awful rash.”

Matt made a soft, sympathetic noise. “Poor baby. Though, what was that about Johnny? I assume you mean Johnny Storm?”

“Oh, yeah. I asked him to move in with me and help with the baby in case she. You know.” He made a spider motion with his hand, even though Matt wouldn’t have a clue that he had made it. “Takes after me in more ways than one.”

“...Maybe we should meet for lunch, and you can explain better. Because I remember you being very vehement about never rooming with Johnny Storm again.”

“Yeah, I can do that - swing by Baxter, I’ll take you somewhere fancy and you can bring back apology cheesecake for Foggy and Kirsten.”

“I’ll be there by noon, assuming the worst doesn't happen.”

Peter snorted. “I have a nice suit you can borrow. See you, Magoo.” Matt laughed as he hung up, and Peter paged Fran. “Hey, I have a lunch meeting at noon with Matt Murdock, I’ll be out for a few hours.”

“Understood.”

\--

By twelve thirty, Peter and Matt were tucked away in a restaurant (that actually had a Braille menu ready to go, which upped Peter's opinion of them tenfold - he knew he liked this place for more than just their food) and sipping water.

“So. What the hell is going on with you, Parker?”

Peter explained, giving him the same story he had told the press and he hoped Matt wouldn't call him out on it - he knew Matt knew when he was lying, but he was banking on Matt knowing to leave well enough alone.

Except Matt Murdock was a lawyer and a _giant. Raging. Asshole._

“So that's what you fed the press. Now tell me the truth.”

“I hate you.”

“Still lying,” Matt smirked behind his water glass. “No one is listening in.”

Peter pitched his voice lower anyway. “I got Gwen from an alien queen who mixed mine and Johnny's DNA together.”

“Does Johnny know that?”

“ _Nope._ ”

“....Wow. You have him living with you, taking care of a baby he doesn't even realize is _his_?”

Peter jabbed his finger at Matt. “Don't judge me!”

Matt held up his hands. “Not judging.”

“You have a judgy face. Judgy eyebrows. You are, in fact, judging me.”

“I’m just enjoying the fact that karma is biting you in the ass, if Johnny is shirtless all the time and oblivious to your giant crush.”

“...How do you know about that? And aren't you Catholic? You don’t believe in karma!”

“You just confirmed it. But, seriously, as long as I’ve known you you have had a thing for Johnny Storm.” Matt wrinkled his nose. “Don't know why, it’s hard to be near him when he smells so _strongly._ ”

Peter thunked his head down carefully on the table. “You don't get to malign the father of my child, jackass. Only I get to. And I _like_ how he smells.”

“God help you. I’ll just enjoy your suffering then, like a true friend would.”

“Jack. _Ass_.”

Matt laughed.

\--

After that, lunch went better. Peter was better able to explain about Gwen's skin issues, and Matt gave him a list of soaps that he used on his clothes and skin, and Peter nearly choked on his water when Johnny sent him a picture of Gwen with the most annoyed look on her face and the text “She aggressively shat herself when I started singing along to the radio, and she loves my singing, so we can't listen to Elton John in the house any more. How can she not like Rocket Man? Your daughter has no taste.”

Matt snorted as Peter relayed that to him. “I have to get back to work. Let me know if the soap works, yeah?”

“Yeah. And I got the bill, no worries. Tell Kirsten and Foggy I say hello.”

Matt flushed, but he grinned and nodded, taking the bag of cheesecake with him as he left. Peter really couldn't blame him for that.

He sighed, and sent a text to Johnny with the list of soaps Matt gave him, and the text he got in return was a snapshot of Gwen and Johnny with a weird glittery flower crown filter on it.

Peter saved it as his new phone background as he paid and went back to the Baxter Building.

\--

He called Matt again, a few days later. “She's still allergic to it!” He yelled into the phone.

“Peter. I’m not a doctor, and I’m not a childcare specialist. I cannot tell you anything except if you're very lucky this will calm down as she gets older.”

“So, what, the three of us are just supposed to walk around shirtless all the time until my daughter's skin stops trying to kill her?!” 

“I imagine you could make some money if you took pictures.”

“You mother-!” Peter let out an indignant squawk as Johnny took the phone from him.

“Hey Matt. Sorry about him, he’s in papa bear mode, only he can't punch Gwen's immune system so he’s all bluster. Yeah. Yeah-huh. Yes, we did appreciate the list, thank you. Thank you very much, Matt, that's kind of you to offer, but you would probably die. Thanks again. Yep. Love to Foggy. Bye-bye.” Johnny hung up Peter's phone and glared at him. “Don't yell at people who are trying to help. Don't yell in front of the baby, either, you’re upsetting her.”

Peter flinched, sparing a glance at poor Gwen's tear streaked face. “Sorry, Gwendy. I didn't mean to scare you,” he murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and draping it over the back of the sofa so he could take Gwen from Johnny and cuddle her close. “Daddy's so sorry, starshine…”

“Besides, aren't you a chemist?”

Peter blinked, and lifted his gaze to stare at his best friend. “Oh.”

Johnny snorted. “Yeah. _Oh_. Dummy.” Johnny took Gwen from Peter and waved a hand dismissively. “Get to work, Gwendy and I have a whole Netflix queue of kids shows to watch.”

“Not too much TV!” Peter yelled over his shoulder as he ran out, grabbing his keys and ID card that would let him into the labs. “It’ll rot her brain! No more than an hour, tops, Johnny!”

“I know, I know…”

Peter was already out the door.

\--

Later, he called Johnny from the labs. “You could've reminded me I was shirtless, Johnny.”

“I wanted to lift morale in the labs. Did it work?”

“... I'm not answering that.” 

It had, in fact, worked.

\--

Working with Dr. Quinn and several other scientists (including Anime Figurine Guy), in the end it took Peter a month and a half to find a laundry soap that wouldn't cause Gwen to break out in hives. From there, body wash and shampoo were easy.

The first time Peter put her in a onesie that she didn't immediately start crying over, he cheered, giving her a gentle toss in the air. “Look at you! No longer naked! Yay!” Gwen giggled and then promptly spit up on him and all down her front, and Peter sighed. “Yeah. I had that coming.”

Johnny laughed. “But at least we can put clothes on her now.”

“Small mercies - I was worried we’d have to make our own nudist colony.”

“As long as it was somewhere warm. Like an island in the Bahamas. You’re all rich and fancy now, do you have an island?”

“What would I do with my own island, Johnny?”

Johnny grinned at him, bright and dazzling. “Form a nudist colony on it, for starters.”

Peter snorted as he changed Gwen into a new onesie, and handed her to Johnny so he could change his shirt. “No nudist colonies in our future, Johnny, sorry.”

“Shame. The view would've been great.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he finished changing his shirt, taking Gwen back from Johnny and blinked as she pushed at him. “Huh?” He watched as Gwen tugged on his shirt, her face stormy. “What's wrong with this shirt? It shouldn't be bothering your skin…”

He handed her back to Johnny to peel out of his shirt again, and when he took her back and cuddled her close she sighed happily, rubbing her cheek on his skin.

Peter looked up at Johnny. “...This is your fault.”

“What? How is this my fault?”

“Not everyone who wants to hold the baby can be shirtless, Johnny! And now she's not happy unless we're shirtless!”

Johnny grinned at him. “Well, _I’m_ not complaining. Besides, it’s only for a little while and then she’ll change her mind. We’ll be fine.”

Peter was going to _die_.

\--

When Aunt May and Jay came by to visit and meet Gwen, Peter was still losing the “wearing a shirt” argument with Gwen.

When he opened the door for Aunt May, she took one look at his face and Gwen’s, and burst into giggles.

“Oh, she is definitely your daughter! My goodness, I haven't seen that expression on a baby since you discovered your hatred of mashed peas,” May laughed, and Peter sighed.

“Please don't encourage her, Aunt May - after the mess with her soap allergy, she now hates it when we wear shirts. She seems fine with Anna Maria just draping a blanket over her front to avoid contact with clothing not washed in her special soap, but if Johnny or I wear one it’s like it's the end of the world or something.”

Jay glanced at Peter's bare chest, and then behind him at Johnny, who had wandered in with one of Gwen's blankets, and looked down at Gwen's annoyed scowl. “I hope you don't expect me to take my shirt off, kiddo - I can't compete with these two and I gotta keep face in front of your Gran.”

May snorted and placed a sweet kiss on Jay’s cheek. “Stop.”

“Not in a million years,” Jay chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Peter felt an odd pang in his chest, the way he always did when he saw May like this with someone who wasn't Uncle Ben, no matter how long it had been since his death. Johnny saved him from embarrassment when he came up, his hand at the small of Peter's back. “Hey, Aunt May. You get lovelier every time I see you.”

May blushed and rolled her eyes. “You're an incorrigible flirt, Jonathan Storm.” She did, however, pull him into a tight hug that Johnny wasn't expecting. “Thank you for being here for Peter. I know it can't be easy for you.”

Johnny hesitated before he hugged her back. “It's easier than you think, with Peter here, but thanks Aunt May.”

Jay led Peter away, heading for the couch and taking the blanket from Johnny's hand as he passed, but not before Peter heard Aunt May murmur “if you need anything - anything at all - you just have to ask,” and the rest was lost as Jay tugged Peter to sit next to him.

“Leave them be a moment, Pete - she has a lot she wants to say to him. I want to meet this lovely young lady.”

Jay slung Gwen’s blanket over his chest and shoulder and Peter passed her into his arms. “Look, Gwendy, it’s Jay…”

Gwen looked unimpressed, but didn't make any fuss as she settled against her blanket.

“Ah, she's beautiful, Peter…. You must be so proud.”

Peter gave a dignified sniff. “I’ll be proud when she graduates from med school, as is the tradition of my people.”

Jay snorted. “You have been proud of this little girl since you knew you were going to have her, and you know it.”

Peter reached over and brushed some of Gwen's curls off her forehead. “Yeah…”

“So. You and Johnny Storm, eh?”

Peter groaned. “Jay, it's really not like that-”

“But it could be, if you wanted.”

“Jay,” Peter said with an exasperated sigh. “Johnny and I are just friends.”

Jay gave him a long skeptical look, but apparently dropped the matter with that when he returned his gaze to Gwen's face. “Your father is a little silly, isn't he, beautiful?”

Gwen giggled and drooled, which Peter took to mean she agreed.

“All right, you, stop hogging my granddaughter.” May walked over and shooed Peter away as she settled down next to Jay in his spot, and Peter looked up just long enough to catch Johnny heading into kitchen, and the loud rushing of water as he, Peter guessed, started washing the dishes from breakfast.

Peter sat back and watched Aunt May cradle Gwen, cooing down at her and singing sweetly.

By the time Aunt May and Jay left some hours later, Gwen was asleep in her crib and Peter stretched before he went looking for Johnny.

He didn't have to look too hard. Johnny was lying on his bed, curled up on his side with his back to the door to Gwen’s room and looking weirdly cold and utterly miserable.

Peter climbed into Johnny's bed and spooned up behind him, pressing a hand to Johnny's chest.

“Wha-?”

Peter hooked his chin over Johnny's shoulder. “Talk to me. You’ve been hiding since Aunt May and Jay got here.”

Johnny shifted a little. “Your aunt is just. Really nice. And if you make fun of me I will burn your food for the rest of your life.”

Peter held Johnny tighter. “You cried, huh?”

Johnny sighed heavily, the action pressing his back harder against Peter's chest. “She said I wasn't as alone as I thought I was and that if I ever needed anything I could call her and - yeah, Pete - I cried.”

Peter couldn't stop himself from kissing Johnny's temple. “She's good like that.”

“I guess so.” Johnny shifted, rolling over in Peter's arms. “Hey, Pete?”

“Hm?” Peter had to close his eyes, with Johnny so close, before he did something really stupid.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Mm. Anytime, Torchy. Sleep now.”

Johnny tucked his head under Peter's chin, and Peter could feel the brush of Johnny's eyelashes against his skin as Johnny closed his eyes.

He didn't let himself think about it, or anything else, as he fell asleep.

\--

Everything was working really well, was the thing. Peter would wake up and Johnny would already be awake with Gwen, having breakfast and already having Peter's coffee made. And then Peter would go to work, or go off to be Spider-Man, or _whatever_ , and then he’d come home, and there would be Johnny and Gwen, and Peter’s breath would catch in his throat.

Peter didn’t want to think about how long it had been, since he had someone to come home to.

And of course he’d strip out of his suit jacket and shirt and tie as soon as he got home, because otherwise how could he snuggle his daughter, who still hated it when he and Johnny wore shirts when they held her.

He settled Gwen on his chest, yawning widely as she started to drop off after supper one night, and he thought that maybe he heard the faux-shuttersnap of a phone’s camera going off, but it was probably just Johnny taking a selfie, so Peter didn’t bother opening his eyes, not until Johnny took Gwen from Peter’s chest and chased him off to bed, and it took everything in him not to ask Johnny to join him there.

\---

The video that was posted to Instagram started like this: Gwen’s chubby baby face beaming at the camera before a sharp jerk toward the doorway to the kitchen as Peter’s sleep-roughened voice murmured 'good morning'. From there, a slow pan from Peter's bare feet up his legs that were clad in ratty sweatpants that hung low on his hips (the camera stayed almost lovingly on his hips and abs) before panning up his chest to his face and sleep tousled hair that looked more like the result of a long night of sex than sleep. Peter arched an eyebrow at the person filming.

“Johnny, are you filming me?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why?”

“The internet asked me to.”

The camera followed Peter as he shuffled forward to kiss Gwen’s temple (“Good morning, starshine. You look as radiant as ever,” He murmured to Gwen, who had oatmeal on her face), and then over to the coffee pot. “Oh, well. If the internet asked you to, who am I to stand between you and your followers.” Peter poured himself a cup of coffee, and the camera panned down his back to his ass, and then back up to his shoulders as Peter finished doctoring it. He turned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his legs and sipping his coffee. “...why do your followers want you to film me?”

“They asked me for more Hot Science Dad.”

“Oh.” Peter sipped his coffee, before he froze mid-sip and he looked back up at Johnny. “Wait. What?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Johnny's voice behind the camera was too innocent, his grin evident in his voice. “That’s what they call you, now.”

The internet was treated to the glorious sight of one Dr. Peter Parker blushing from the roots of his hair to mid-chest, even with the look of dawning horror on his face. “Johnny, what have you done?”

“I posted a picture of you, and the people demanded more! Am I supposed to say no to my adoring public?”

Peter covered his face with one hand as he laughed. “Oh my God. _Oh my God._ Wow. Fifteen year old me feels so validated right now.”

“What do we say to the internet, Pete?”

“Thank you, internet, you wacky, wacky people.” Peter sat down with a snort and leaned in to kiss his daughter's cheek. “You hear that, sweetie? I am going to be the Dad who all your friends have hilariously awkward crushes on and it is going to be so awful for you, yes it is!” he cooed to her.

Johnny snorted. “You sound so sure.”

“Everyone has that one friend with the hot parent that you get the hilariously awkward crush on, Johnny.”

“Really? Everyone? You speak from experience?”

Peter went even redder. “...Well, okay, he’s not your dad, but-”

“...oh my God, Pete. Reed? You had a crush on Reed?!”

Peter sputtered, even as he moved his coffee cup out of Gwen’s reach. “I was nineteen!”

“He’s old! He had grey hair! _You were his intern!_ ”

“He was distinguished-looking to nineteen year old me!”

“Oh my God - this is so embarrassing for you!” Johnny practically cackled with delight.

“Do not post this to the internet!”

“I am posting this to the internet.”

“Johnny, no-!”

The video ended on a blurry shot of Peter’s nipple.

It got over a million views in less than ten minutes.

-—

The next day was business as usual, until around noon.

“Sir?” Fran’s voice said, weirdly warm and fond. “Your lunch appointment is here.”

Peter frowned. “I had a lunch appointment today?”

“You do now, Sir. Your daughter is here to see you with Mr. Storm.”

Peter blinked. “Uh. Send them in?”

His office door opened, and there was Johnny, holding Gwen in his arms and smiling at him and Peter wanted to kiss them both hello. “Hey there.”

“Hi. I’m amazed she’s not pitching a fit.” Peter tilted his chin toward Johnny’s shirt, where Gwen had one of her tiny baby hands clutching at the fabric at Johnny’s shoulder.

Johnny chuckled. “She was in her stroller on the way down - I think she’s too distracted by all the New Stuff to get mad about us wearing shirts. We came down to take you to lunch - Gwen could do with the sun and honestly, so could you.”

“Flatterer,” Peter murmured, locking his computer and already getting to his feet. “Somewhere we can eat outside, then?”

Johnny beamed at him.

—

The thing was, Peter hadn’t thought anything about it, at the time. It became a routine thing - whenever Peter didn’t have a meeting, Johnny would bring Gwen down and they’d go out for lunch, and of course there were paparazzi, but Peter hadn’t really given them much thought; he was out with Johnny Storm, and Peter knew better than anyone how much the cameras loved Johnny Storm.

It wasn’t until Anna Maria came into his office and threw a magazine at his face that Peter started to think there was a problem.

“Okay, what is this?”

“Page 23.”

Peter arched an eyebrow at her, but opened the magazine to the appropriate page to see… himself. Himself and Johnny, in particular, out to lunch with Gwen.

‘From Firework To Hearth Fire: Is Notorious Playboy Johnny Storm Settling Down?’ the headline read.

‘If you haven’t been following Johnny Storm’s Instagram feed - and why the heck aren’t you? - the Superhero Playboy has taken a break from superheroing to help out long-time friend Dr. Peter Parker with his beautiful new baby. Yes, the hottest man in tech and the hottest man alive have been living together in domestic bliss, and have been seen out and about together with little baby Gwen. Is Johnny Storm ready to try his hand at settling down again, so long after his failed marriage to the sculptor Alicia Masters?’

Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe, his eyes moving back to all the pictures to go with the article: him and Johnny and Gwen together, Peter sitting almost too close to Johnny at an outdoor cafe, Peter smiling at Johnny (did he always smile at Johnny like that, like he was lovestruck?), Peter’s hand on Johnny’s _hip_ as they walked together with Gwen in Johnny’s arms - or Johnny’s hand on Peter’s waist when Peter was the one carrying her. (art by [Hazir-Art](http://hazirart.tumblr.com))

He had never thought about it before - Peter was a physical guy, especially with his affection, and so was Johnny, and it had honestly never even occurred to him what it would look like to other people, the two of them.

Peter looked up at Anna Maria. “Anna-”

“No one actually cares, as far as stock pricing is concerned - we’ve actually gone up. Parker Industries has always been more progressive than most other tech companies.”

Peter nodded, taking slow, deep breaths. “Then what’s the problem.”

“You need to make your move, Peter.”

Peter nodded. “Right. Right. How the hell do I do that?”

Anna Maria rolled her eyes as she turned to walk out. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

Peter sat at his desk for several minutes, staring down at the largest picture of him and Johnny, sitting at a cafe table and grinning at each other like they shared the best secret in the world as Peter bottle fed Gwen.

And if Peter squinted, tilted his head just so, maybe, just maybe, he could convince himself that Johnny looked like maybe he was a little in love with Peter, too.

Thankfully, Gwen came down with some sort of death plague, and Peter didn’t have to think about much else at all.

—

Peter lifted his head as Johnny came back into the living room. “How is she?”

“Finally asleep,” Johnny sighed, settling onto the sofa next to Peter. “The medicine kicked in, so if there is any justice in the world, she’ll be able to stay asleep and her fever will go down.”

“Johnny-"

“It’s what I’m here for, so don't thank me, okay?” Johnny smiled at him, so exhausted even his hair was limp, and he still looked gorgeous.

“Still. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, you really wanna thank me? Family vacation to Hawaii.”

Peter nodded, watching Johnny as he tipped his head back against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, and trying to ignore the way his heart swelled at the way Johnny said “family.”

Peter leaned over and pressed his mouth to Johnny's, pulling back when Johnny tensed up under him. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry! I just… I’ve wanted to do that for years.”

 _Oh God I’ve ruined everything_ , Peter thought in a panic as Johnny stared at him.

“...You fucking asshole.”

Yep. Everything ruined. Start grovelling. “It won't happen again, Johnny, I’m sorry-”

“How could you do this to me when I am too tired to do anything about it!” Johnny hissed at him.

“I’ll let you kick my ass later, I just don't want to lose your friendship because I couldn't keep my mouth to myself-!”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Why would I kick your ass? I’m talking about sex!”

Peter blinked as he tried to process that. Everything not ruined? “...So we’re okay?”

“As long as you promise not to talk yourself out of kissing me again when I am not dead on my feet and can do something about it.”

“I promise. I’ll kiss you again tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and every day after that for as long as you’ll have me.”

Johnny stared at him like Peter had grown a second head. “...as long as _I’ll_ have _you?_ ”

“Mmhm. I realize I’m not exactly your type when it comes to the people you date.”

“Shut up.” Johnny stared at him, searching Peter's face for something, Peter didn't know what. “Just shut up for a second. You mean- Pete, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

Johnny slung a leg over Peter’s thighs and kissed him, cradling Peter's jaw between his palms. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for years, too,” he murmured against Peter's mouth. (art by Millielitre)

Oh thank God. Peter reached up and threaded his fingers in Johnny’s impossibly soft hair as he kissed him back. “I’m sorry I took so long, Johnny. I’m an idiot.”

“Mm, you’ve always been an idiot.” Johnny nipped at his lower lip. “Take me to bed, Peter.”

“I thought you were too tired to do anything?”

“I am. We’re gonna sleep. And then I’m gonna wake up to you tomorrow morning. And the day after that, and the day after that, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Peter shifted his grip on Johnny's thighs as he stood, grinning as Johnny let out an undignified squeak and clung to Peter's shoulders. “Relax. Proportional strength of a spider, remember? I can do this all day and then some.”

Johnny's pupils dilated as he whimpered. “Bed. Sleep. Then - _then!_ \- we’re gonna experiment with that.”

“You know me, Johnny: I love a good experiment.” Peter grinned as he carried Johnny to his bedroom, snagging the baby monitor from the coffee table as he passed it.

Johnny laughed as Peter tenderly laid him out on the bed, setting aside the baby monitor to shuck off his pants and climb in after Johnny. Peter pulled him into a kiss, soft and tender in spite of the sparks he could feel running down his spine.

Johnny was asleep in moments, his head pillowed on Peter’s chest, and Peter ran his fingers through Johnny’s hair. He knew it was too soon to start thinking about it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and fell asleep with ring designs running through his head.

\---

Peter woke up on his back, a line of heat up his side, and the soft sounds of Gwen's sleepy sniffles coming in over the baby monitor.

Johnny had stripped down in the night, mostly nude body pressed up against Peter's side and Peter couldn't stop himself from running his hand over Johnny's skin, smooth and flawless and _so warm_.

Johnny’s eyes fluttered open as Peter’s hand ended up at Johnny's hip, just under the band of Johnny's little black briefs. “Mmm? Oh… not a dream.” Johnny smiled at him, dizzying and radiant and half asleep and- 

Peter kissed him, rolling them over so Johnny was pinned under him, and Johnny _moaned_. “Not a dream, Johnny - we’re real. The realest thing there is.”

“ _Pete,_ ” Johnny gasped, eyes a little wide, though maybe that was because of the way Peter's cock was pressed against him through his own boxer-briefs.

Peter ran a hand through Johnny's hair. “Hm?”

Johnny bit his lower lip, rocking up against Peter with a faint, choked off moan. “Hurry, please-”

“What's the rush?” Peter murmured against Johnny's mouth, biting gently at that plush lower lip.

“I-”

There was a fussy whimper from over the baby monitor, a sound Peter was more than familiar with being a prelude to one of Gwen's piercing wails, one that meant anything from just wanting a cuddle to being in desperate need of a bath, a diaper change, and a bottle in that order and make it snappy.

Peter sighed, defeated, as Johnny laughed. “That. Before that happened,” Johnny said between giggles, which, really, was a very good look on him so Peter couldn't complain too much.

“Cockblocked by my own kin,” Peter grumbled halfheartedly.

Johnny kissed him. “Let me get her. You get coffee started.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Peter kissed him back. “Love you.”

Johnny let out a soft whimper, dragging Peter down into a deeper kiss. Then Gwen let out a sharp cry, and Johnny dragged himself away, rolling out from under Peter to rush out. “Coming, coming!”

Peter watched him go before letting himself flop back down onto the bed with a laugh, joy bubbling up in his chest as he listened to Johnny coo at Gwen over the baby monitor.

‘ _What a beautiful morning._ ’

\--

Peter had expected things to be dramatically different now that he and Johnny actually _were_ dating, but the only thing that changed between him and Johnny was the fact that they had sex now.

Admittedly, it was amazingly hot sex; moments stolen when Gwen was asleep, or Peter could beg someone _else_ to watch her for a bit. 

(Miles had stared at him when Peter had asked, but then he and Gwen apparently got on like a house on fire, Peter and Johnny coming in late to see Miles reading to her from his copy of Romeo and Juliet as he paced the ceiling with Gwen webbed to his chest.

When he caught their expressions, Miles looked bashful. “If she hadn't stopped crying, I was gonna take her swinging next.”)

Peter had no idea how he managed his days before he could kiss Johnny good morning, or hello at lunch, or good evening before he went out swinging, or good night before bed (or 'you look beautiful’, or 'you have a coffee mustache’, or 'thank you for helping with my tie’, or 'it’s been five minutes since I kissed you last and that is too long’).

The fact that this was the happiest he’d seen Johnny in ages eclipsed all that.

\--

Peter groaned, burying his face in Johnny's hair as a loud knock at the front door woke him from a deep sleep.

Johnny reached back and patted Peter’s hip. “Get the door.”

“No,” Peter growled, wrapping himself more around Johnny.

“Get the door, before they-”

Over the baby monitor, Gwen whimpered and started to cry.

“-wake Gwen,” Johnny finished weakly.

Peter growled. This was his _one day_ he could sleep in and some jackass going to regret ruining it.

(Honestly, there was only a select number of jackasses it could be - Peter had given the security desk a list of people who would be allowed up at any time no matter what - and under the initial grump of being woken up, a cold knot of anxiety was starting to form: what if something was _wrong_?)

Peter and Johnny put on pants before splitting off - Johnny to get Gwen, and Peter to get the door as the knocking started up again. “Okay, okay, for the love of friggin’-” Peter opened the door to the grinning face of Flash Thompson. “Flash?!”

“Hey, Pete!” Flash pulled him into a tight hug. “Good to see you, man!”

“When the hell did you get planetside? Is everything okay?”

Flash pulled back with a nod. “Yeah - everything's fine! I landed a few days ago, had to take care of something and figured 'hey, I wonder how Pete’s doing?’ Imagine my surprise to see a cover of People telling me that you had a baby and are living in sin with Johnny Storm.”

“I haven't finished designing the ring yet,” Peter said, only half joking. Nothing seemed _right_ to propose with.

Flash’s eyes went wide. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah - Johnny doesn't know yet, so-”

“Mum’s the word, got it.” Flash hugged him again, tighter this time. “It's good to see you again, Pete.”

“Same, man.” Peter frowned, eyeing Flash's cane. “Is the suit not with you?”

“Oh, he’s around. Is… that okay?”

Peter looked Flash up and down. “As long as he's aware that Johnny will set him on fire if he tries anything hinky. Not that he would, but this is my daughter's safety.”

Flash frowned, but nodded. “I get it. You have nothing to worry about, but I get it.” Peter nodded as Johnny came out of Gwen's room, holding her in his arms, and watching as Flash's face split into a wide grin. “Well, hello there, beautiful! And Johnny, too, I guess.”

Johnny snorted. “Oh, you guess?”

Flash grinned. “Half naked and holding a baby _is_ a good look for you, Johnny.” Peter scowled and Flash cracked up. “Aww, Pete, your face!”

“I will fight you and no one will be pleased, Flash.”

“Yeah, whatever, I am gonna sit and cuddle that adorable little girl and ignore you both for a while.”

Johnny shot Peter a bright grin as Flash headed over to the arm chair. “Here that, Gwen? You're gonna get to hang out with Flash!”

There was a loud clatter as Flash's cane hit the floor and he sat down heavily. “Her name’s Gwen?”

Sometimes Peter forgot, in the wake of everything, that Gwen had been friends with Flash, first. “Yeah.”

Flash's eyes were shining before he shut them. “I absolutely have to meet her now,” he said, voice choked up.

“She likes skin to skin contact,” Johnny said, his voice soft. “She also is allergic to just about every soap there is, so if you wait a sec I can grab her 'cuddle blanket’ or you can take your shirt off.”

Flash sniffled as he gave a weak laugh and peeled out of his shirt, and the Venom suit slithered off him. “Johnny Storm telling me to take my shirt off while he and Peter Parker lounge around half naked? I think I had this dream in college.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, what?”

But Flash was already ignoring him as Johnny handed Gwen over, and Flash stroked a finger over her cheek. “Hey, Gwendy. It's so nice to meet you.”

Okay, _whatever_ \- he could deal with Flash thinking he had been attractive once upon a time. Harry might kill him, but better for this than the Spider-Man thing.

Peter glanced at Johnny, who was smiling at the Venom symbiote standing awkwardly behind Flash's chair. “Hi - I don't think we were ever introduced properly: I’m Johnny Storm. You're Venom, right?”

“...yes,” Venom said slowly, cautious.

“You can have a seat, it's okay.”

Venom picked up Flash's cane with a tentacle and set it carefully against Flash's chair, looking awkward as he shuffled over to the corner. “I am fine.”

Johnny glanced over at Peter, frowning in concern at him as Venom stood in the corner watching Flash coo at Gwen and looking for all the world like a little kid watching the other kids play from their window and not being allowed to join in.

The fact that Venom was giant and super strong didn't do anything to shake the impression that, in that moment, Venom seemed very small, and a little sad.

“Do you want to meet Gwen?” Peter blurted out suddenly, keeping his eyes on Venom's face and ignoring the surprised looks on Johnny and Flash's faces. “I’m sure Flash would let you hold her for a few seconds if you asked nicely.”

Venom hunched in on himself. “I do not wish to harm her.”

“You won't, V,” Flash said, looking over at him with a soft, fond smile. “I promise.”

“I-” Venom crept closer, hovering behind Flash as he peered down at Gwen. “She is very small, Flash.”

“She's an infant, V.”

Venom reached out with one large finger to stroke it down Gwen's cheek and made a startled noise when she grabbed it. “Ah-!”

Peter snorted - he couldn't help it. All his history with the symbiote, and here it was, utterly terrified of the tiny baby going cross-eyed as she accidentally poked herself in the nose with his finger trying to put it in her mouth. “Gwendy, don't put people in your mouth without their consent, please.”

Gwen let out a happy gurgle as Venom poked her nose with his other hand, and she latched onto that, too; a finger in each tiny fist.

“Flash, please assist,” Venom pleaded.

“Nope, this is adorable.”

Venom stretched a tentacle down to poke Gwen's belly, and her eyes went wide with a delighted squeal. Then she scowled, clearly trying to figure out how to grab the tentacle as well without letting go of Venom's fingers.

Johnny glanced at Peter, amused. “Poor Gwen. Her life is so hard.”

“ _Clearly_.”

There was another giggle from Gwen as Venom brought around another tentacle to poke Gwen’s belly, and the look Flash gave Venom made Peter pause.

He had seen that look before.

Flash was in love.

Peter shook his head. _Nope. Nope nope nope, not going there._ “I am not awake enough for that,” he muttered under his breath before kissing Johnny softly. “Hey, can you get some coffee started?”

Johnny nodded, kissing Peter again. “Sure.”

“You two good to keep an eye on Gwen for a sec?”

“Yeah, yeah, shoo,” Flash said, giving Peter a quick smile.

Peter headed into the bathroom, decidedly _not_ trying to figure out how Flash ended up with a thing for the symbiote.

Peter was washing his hands when he heard it: an alarmed shout, Venom hissing, and a clatter and a loud _thud!_ , followed by a lot of yelling and Gwen crying.

He ran out to see Anna Maria with a clipboard on the floor next to her and armed with one of her shoes, the other on the floor where Venom had been, Venom backed again into the corner and Flash curled protectively around Gwen as Johnny tried to diffuse the situation.

“That's right, buddy!” Anna Maria was shouting. “There's a lot more where that came from so you can just back the fuck up away from them!”

“Anna Maria-” Johnny was saying at the same time.

“Everyone _shut it!_ ” Peter shouted. In the resulting silence, Gwen sniffled. “Anna Maria, can I talk to you in the other room for a second?” 

Anna Maria glared at Venom as Peter practically dragged her into the bathroom and shut the door. “What the fuck, Peter?!”

“That’s what _I_ wanna know!” He hissed at her.

“You said the aliens that gave you Gwen had tentacles!” She hissed back, keeping her voice low. “I walked in and saw that thing-”

“Venom.”

“-and it was wiggling tentacles at her!”

Peter frowned. “You thought the aliens came back for Gwen.”

“And that it’d hurt Flash to get to her.” Anna Maria tucked her hair back behind her ears. “I'm assuming I was wrong.”

“Yeah… Venom is a symbiote. Basically, a living suit.”

“...it’s Flash's suit, isn't it?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I’ll let Flash explain it all.”

Anna Maria took a deep breath. “Venom looks a lot like the black version of the suit Spider-Man wore for a bit.”

“It's a very long, very complicated story.”

“Uh huh. I’m going to go apologize. And get my shoe back.”

Peter followed her out into the main room, where Johnny was shushing Gwen, and Flash had Venom's hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over Venom's wrists. “Everyone okay? No one was hurt?”

“Just startled,” Flash said, eyeing Anna Maria. “Nice throwing arm, by the way.”

“I played softball as a kid.” Anna Maria marched over to Venom. “It has been brought to my attention that I… had the wrong idea of what was happening when I walked in, and that you weren't going to hurt Flash and kidnap Gwen. So. Sorry for trying to bean you in the head with my shoe.”

Venom stared at her for a long moment. “I accept your apology. You could not know that the idea of me willingly hurting Flash is ludicrous. He is my partner in all things.” Venom reached over with a tentacle to wrap around Anna Maria's thrown shoe and pass it carefully to her, clearly unwilling to remove his hands from Flash's. 

Anna Maria eyed the tentacle as she accepted her shoe back. “...I assume these are multi-purpose - or are there specialized sets?”

Flash flushed bright red as Venom tilted his head with a confused noise. “I do not understand the question?”

“Nevermind.”

After that, things settled, Anna Maria got Peter to sign some things regarding work (the original reason she came up to see him in the first place) and Venom was eventually convinced to hold Gwen himself (and Gwen - tiny, fearless Gwen - had just giggled and kicked her feet and Peter had to fight down the urge to give Johnny a flat look and say “she gets this from _your_ side of the family.”). 

Anna Maria sat on the sofa, listening to Flash and Johnny sing a strange children's song in an alien language as Venom provided finger-puppet-like visuals and Peter sipped his coffee - from what he could gather, it was some kind of twist on Little Bunny Foo Foo, only the field mice built a giant robot to fight him off.

“Are you following this at all?”

Anna Maria sipped her own coffee. “They lost me at the giant robot.”

Peter nodded. “Right. As long as we're all on the same page, I guess.”

Gwen started to fuss and Flash shot Peter a panicked look, and Johnny laughed. “She's probably just hungry, dude, relax.”

Peter grinned at Flash. “You wanna feed her?”

Flash looked back down at Gwen's little scrunched face. “Absolutely yes.”

Suddenly, Venom looked up and shifted, squishing down into a blobbish shape as he dove into Anna Maria's lap and reformed himself into the shape of… a cat?

There was a knock at the front door, and Anna Maria settled her hand on Venom's back as though he had always been a cat.

Peter needed more coffee.

Johnny rolled his eyes. “I got it - you can get Her Highness her bottle.”

Peter sighed dramatically, stopping to kiss Johnny as they passed each other.

Johnny, in his infinite baby-caring wisdom, had left one of Gwen's bottles on the counter when he had gone to make coffee, so Peter only had to bring it out, just in time to hear “Hey, Harry! C’mon in - Flash is visiting. You knew Flash, too, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Harry stammered. “I, uh, um - oh.”

Peter watched as Flash and Harry stared at one another, Flash's face splitting into a wide grin. “Harry Osborn. Hey there.”

“Hey, Flash.” Harry grinned. “I see they’ve managed to get you to join their little nudist colony.”

“Young Miss Gwendolyn is very convincing,” Flash said primly as Peter walked over to hand Flash Gwen's bottle. “Okay, Pete, what the heck am I doing?”

Peter explained, keeping half an ear on Johnny and Harry as Johnny leaned on the back of the couch behind Anna Maria.

“So what brings you over, Harry?”

“Oh, I just was thinking that if you two wanted me to watch Gwen tonight, I can. I’ve got Normie and Stanley coming tonight, and you said you and Peter wanted Gwen to socialize a little?”

Johnny caught Peter’s eye, and grinned. “Why don't you bring them over here and we'll watch the boys? That way you're free to take Flash to dinner tonight.”

“T-to dinner?”

“Yes! You work so hard, Harry, you deserve a nice date, and you can come get the boys in the morning!” Johnny beamed, bright and delighted.

“I. Uh,” Harry blushed and sputtered, his eyes darting between Johnny and Flash and Peter. “Uh?”

“That's a great idea - I’ll make you two reservations for tonight, Har,” Peter chimed in. “At that place that we went to that one time?”

If Johnny was going to try to set up Flash and Harry, Peter wasn't gonna stop him.

“Peter, that really isn't necessary-”

Peter hummed, already exchanging the necessary emails on his WebWare. “Nope, sorry, already done. Boom. Dinner for two, tonight, seven pm, under your name. Tough shit, you now have a hot date with Flash, Harry, I’ll expect the boys at six thirty.”

Harry nodded, looking a little dazed. “Yeah, okay. I. Uh. I need to go. I’ll, um, pick you up from, uh, here, Flash?”

Flash nodded, still feeding Gwen. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Great! Great, awesome. I, uh. I need to go. I’ll. I’ll see you tonight.” Harry nodded, still looking dazed as he backed out of the apartment and closed the door.

The room was silent save for the sounds of Gwen feeding from her bottle before Flash finally spoke up. “Did you both seriously just set me up on a date with _Harry Osborn_ with the implication that he's gonna take me home with him for the night?”

Johnny blinked innocently at Flash. “Are you _not_ going to go home with him and ride him like you stole him?”

“Well _now_ I am!” Flash was blushing, though. “I mean, if, if that's a thing he’d like to do, given the givens.”

Anna Maria arched an eyebrow as she stroked Venom The Cat’s back. “Ain’t no drama like gay man drama.”

“Pan,” Peter, Johnny, and Flash all said at once.

“My mistake.”

Peter frowned at her. “Stop petting Venom like that, you look like a villain.”

Anna Maria smirked at him, before she picked up Venom and cooed at him. “Whattaya say, V? Wanna rule the world with me and crush our enemies in your adorwable widdle paws with their itty bitty widdle beans?”

Venom put a paw on her face. “Madam, please, this is unbecoming of a woman of your station.”

Anna Maria snorted and set Venom down. “Suit yourself, V. I am getting out of here before I’m roped into diaper changing duty. Have fun, boys.”

They watched her go before Flash turned to Peter. “Yeah, no, I’m not changing diapers, either.”

Peter sighed.

\---

Flash and Venom hung around the apartment until Harry showed up again with the boys, with Venom settling back over Flash and shifting to look like Flash was in a fancy suit just as Harry knocked on the door.

By the time Peter had gotten the boys settled down in the travel cribs Harry had gotten him as gifts for Gwen, he crawled into Johnny's bed and passed out before Johnny finished tucking in Gwen.

Peter woke up before Johnny, and staggered into the kitchen to get the coffee started when his WebWare buzzed.

‘just dropped Flash off @ his hotel - are the boys still asleep?’

Peter yawned. '*i* am still asleep. You wanna come get them?’

'make coffee, I wanna talk about something before they wake up.’

Peter frowned, and added three more scoops of coffee to the pot. 'sure thing.’

This could only end poorly.

\--

By the time Harry got to the apartment, Peter was staring intently at the pot as it filled with coffee chanting softly “coffee coffee coffee.”

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hey, Harry.” Peter glanced over at him. “You look perky.”

“And you look completely dead, go sit down.”

Peter sat down and watched as Harry poured them both cups of coffee and sat across from Peter, rolling the mug between his hands. “Har?”

“Did you know Flash had a thing for me? For a while?”

Peter wobbled his hand back and forth as he poured sugar into his mug with the other. “Sorta.”

“I thought the dinner thing was just you and Johnny being assholes.”

“I mean, we were, but not because 'haha you have a thing for him and he’s just not into you’, you know?”

Harry nodded. “You knew about the Klyntar?”

“The what?” Peter blinked.

“Venom, Flash's suit thing.”

The Symbiote was called a Klyntar? “Oh. Yeah, we knew.” Peter watched Harry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just…” Harry flushed. “I get the whole tentacle sex thing, now.”

 _Oh God._ “On the one hand, I _really_ don't wanna know. On the other hand,” he leaned forward, smirking. “I take it that means the date went well?”

Harry blushed redder. “Yeah… yeah, I- he said he's going to be on Earth for a while, so. We want to give it a shot, you know? The whole… dating thing.”

Peter nodded. “I’m glad - I hope it works out.”

Harry nodded, looking down into his coffee.

There was a long moment of silence before Harry looked up at him and spoke. “So what brought you around to tentacle sex?”

Peter’s head thumped down to the table as he groaned.

\---

Months later, after summer had swung back around to spring, after Gwen’s first birthday had come and gone, Peter was fixing his tie as he walked into the kitchen, struck suddenly by how Johnny looked with the morning sun streaking in through the window, Gwen wobbling in her high chair to the music coming from Johnny's phone as Johnny danced.

Peter slid up behind Johnny and kissed his shoulder. “Is this even in English?”

“Nope,” Johnny said, turning in Peter's arms to kiss him properly. “You have something against Rihanna?”

Peter shook his head. “Never met her.”

“I have - she's _great_.” Johnny kissed him.

“No.”

Peter blinked as he and Johnny broke apart. “Huh?”

“What?”

They both turned to Gwen as she sat in her chair, staring at them. “No.”

Gwen was talking. Admittedly, it was just the one word, but- “What no, Gwendy?”

“Mine.”

Johnny grinned at Peter. “You're hearing this, right?” Johnny pulled away from him to go scoop Gwen up into his arms and press kisses to her face, cooing at her about how proud of her he was.

It was in that moment, with Johnny practically glowing golden in the spring morning sunshine that Peter knew what he wanted to do for Johnny's ring.

Peter also knew, watching as Johnny held their daughter in his arms, that he needed to come clean about her to him before he could ask Johnny to marry him.

But first, the ring.

\---

It took Peter a while, admittedly, to really finalize how the ring would look. It had to be perfect.

Johnny deserved perfect.

Gwen had been put to bed for the night, Peter eavesdropping on Johnny reading to her as he dug out the engagement ring and stashed it in his pocket. He had gone over what he wanted to say a thousand times. And he was waiting on the sofa when Johnny came out of Gwen's room.

“Hey there - you okay? You look like you swallowed a worm.”

Peter smiled at Johnny weakly as he patted the seat next to him. “Johnny, there's… a couple of things I wanna talk to you about, and I can’t talk to you about the second one without telling you the first.”

Johnny watched as Peter rubbed his hands against his pajama pants nervously. “Yeah? What's up, babe?”

“First, it's about Gwen.”

The change that came over Johnny's face almost broke Peter's heart - oddly resigned and a little sad. “I take it my time as a babysitter is done, then?”

“What? No! No no, nothing like that. I mean, sort of like that, but not like you think!”

Johnny sat down next to him with a frown. “Okay, now I am just confused.”

Peter held Johnny's hands in his, the weight of the ring box in his pocket pressing like an ominous reminder of what was at stake against his thigh. “It's about where Gwen really came from.”

Johnny stilled. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just. Hear me out, okay? Let me finish before you say anything.” Peter took a deep breath and told Johnny everything; about the aliens and their Queen, the deal he only half remembered making, and being given the egg. When he was finished, Johnny was sitting with his head bowed, and the skin under Peter's hands was growing hotter by the second. “Johnny?”

“You mean to tell me she's mine? She's been mine this whole time? It’s been nearly _two years_ since you came to me after finding out about her, and _now_ you’re telling me she's _mine?_ ”

“When I told you about her the first time, I had originally come to tell you she was also yours, but you said-”

“I know what I fucking said, Peter.” For all that Johnny's rage burned hot, his voice was like the coldest ice. “Let go of me.”

“Johnny-"

“Let. Fucking. Go. Of. Me.”

Peter released Johnny's hands just as his skin got too hot to touch. “Johnny, please listen to me-”

“No. No, I am _done_ listening to you!” Johnny surged to his feet, flames dancing off the ends of his hair and burning in his eyes. “You lied to me about my own fucking _daughter_! You just decided things all on your own and made me believe that this was all- _Jesus_ , Pete, are you even really in love with me or is this just your guilt complex?!”

Peter felt like he’d been punched in the chest. “Of _course_ I love you, Johnny - Johnny I’ve loved you for _years_!”

“But you didn't realize it until after Gwen was born, right? Until we were together almost every moment of every day and your guilt was eating you alive because if there's one thing you love to do more than anything it's feeling guilt,” Johnny hissed at him, smoke curling around him.

“It was before-!” Johnny stalked away from him toward the balcony, flinging open the door with more force than necessary. “Where are you going?!” Peter surged to his feet, panic gripping his chest like ice. _He’s leaving!_

“ _Away from you!_ ” Johnny screamed at him, and took off into the night like a comet.

Peter could only stare at the scorch mark Johnny had left on the balcony floor. “But I want you to marry me,” he said uselessly.

Over the baby monitor, Gwen started screaming.

\---

Peter spent hours trying to get Gwen to calm down, everything from changing her diaper to walking her around the apartment to a bath to even singing to her the way Johnny always had, but she wasn't having it. She wailed and screamed her poor little lungs out, and Peter couldn't really blame her.

He finally gave up and buried his face in her hair and cried, too.

\---

Anna Maria found him on the couch in the morning, Gwen finally having cried herself to sleep some time in the night. “Hey. I got your message about not coming in today - you know if Gwen’s sick again you need to take her to see Dr. Quinn and not just stay here wallowing in shared misery.”

“She’s not sick,” Peter said hollowly. “I told Johnny the truth about Gwen. He left.”

Anna Maria sank into the armchair near Peter’s head. “Did he take his things? Say where he was going?”

“No, he just. Said that he was going somewhere away from me and flew off. Gwen hasn’t stopped screaming since he left - she just finally passed out a little while ago.”

“What made you decide you wanted to tell him the truth?”

Peter, very carefully, shifted to get his hand in his pocket and tossed the ring box at Anna Maria, who caught it against her chest. “That.”

“...Peter, this is a ring.”

“Mm.”

“An _engagement_ ring?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And this - is this made from Gwen’s _shell_?”

“Yup.” Johnny never even saw the ring. Or even the ring box. “I wanted to tell him the truth about Gwen before I asked him to marry me. It seemed, you know, prudent.” Peter didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling, everything feeling stiff and crusty with salt and exhaustion. 

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

“No. It’s my own fault. I did this. You told me to tell him the truth and I didn’t listen.”

“... Peter…”

“Please, I just - I need a few days. If Johnny comes back for his stuff, I can… I dunno, grovel. But I need to find someone else I trust to watch her before I can go back to work, Anna Maria.”

She nodded, running her fingers through Gwen’s hair, then Peter’s. “I got you covered. Just… don’t take forever, okay?”

She walked out, leaving Peter alone again as Gwen snuffled on his chest.

\---

Johnny was gone for two days, and the sun was setting on the third when he landed on the balcony of Peter’s apartment and knocked on the door. Gwen was in her crib, down for a pre-supper nap, and Peter was taking the time to poke uselessly at some project specs for Parker Industries. At the sound of the knock, Peter was on his feet, the tablet tumbling to the floor as he rushed over to the door and flung it open.

He probably came off as too desperate, but it was hard to care when Johnny was _right there_ , close enough to touch. “You came back…”

“Yeah, well, I live here, don’t I? Unless you’ve burned all my stuff.”

Peter shook his head, standing aside to let Johnny in. “I… I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Johnny shrugged a careless shoulder. “I thought about it.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went to visit Wyatt. Crashed on his couch. Bitched about you.”

“...how is Wyatt doing?” Wyatt Wingfoot being Johnny’s tall and unfairly gorgeous friend, it was a little too easy for Peter to imagine the kind of comfort Johnny got from Wyatt while ‘crashing on his couch’, and it made his gut twist as an ugly jealousy crept up the back of his throat like bile.

“He’s good, doing really well.” Johnny didn’t turn around to look at Peter, he just stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the framed pictures of them Peter still kept on the walls. “He helped me realize a few things. Like how you were right to be scared of how I would react to finding out Gwen’s parentage, but he agreed that you were wrong to keep it from me for _nearly two years_.” Peter drifted closer to Johnny as Johnny talked, though Johnny still kept his back to him, his hands curling into fists as he spoke. “I mean - Pete. If you _really_ want to raise her with me? It has to be _with me_. No more of that ‘babysitter’ shit, okay? Like, kinky sex roleplay is one thing, but a man who looks after his kid is a _parent_ , not a _babysitter_.” Johnny spun around, and if he was surprised at Peter’s closeness, it didn’t show on his face as he jabbed his finger in the center of Peter’s chest. “And you can’t lie to me anymore! No more of that, not even if you think it’s for my own good, not even if you think you’re keeping me safe! Okay? Can you do that?”

 _Yes, of course I can_ , Peter wanted to say. _I can do that for you._

“I can try,” was what came out. Peter swallowed hard. “I can’t promise you anything but that I’ll try, Johnny.”

Johnny stared at him, eyes searching Peter’s face before he nodded. “Okay then.” Johnny blinked and looked down at where his finger was still jabbed into Peter’s chest and he stepped back, letting his hand drop. “...anything you have to add to that?” he asked, shifting awkwardly.

Peter reached out and took Johnny’s hands in his. “You’re staying?”

Johnny nodded. “I want this to work. She’s my daughter, and I _do_ love you, for all that you’re kind of a dick.”

Peter laughed weakly. “Yeah, pretty much.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Johnny’s. “I _do_ love you, Johnny. I never lied about that.”

Johnny nodded, rubbing their noses together. “I hoped as much.” Peter kissed him, soft and fond, letting go of one of Johnny’s hands to cradle his jaw. “Hey,” Johnny mumbled into the kiss.

Peter growled, but pulled back slightly. “What?”

“What was the second thing?”

“Huh?”

“That night, when you told me about Gwen. You said you had two things you wanted to talk to me about, and that the second one depended on the first.”

Peter blinked. _Oh_. He still had the ring box in his pocket, a constant reminder of what he thought he had lost the chance at. “I want to show you something, first.”

“Okay?”

Peter led Johnny down the hall to the clean room where he still had the box with Gwen’s egg, opening the door and leading Johnny inside. “This is her egg.”

Johnny dropped Peter’s hand as he stepped forward to gently frame the shell in his hands. “Oh… wait- Pete, there’s a piece missing.”

When Johnny turned around to face him again, Peter was kneeling, ring box resting in the palm of his hand. “I know.”

Johnny stared at him, setting the shell back down in its box. “... Peter?”

Peter opened the ring box, revealing the ring he had made for Johnny - gold inlaid with a band of Gwen’s shell. Peter had a matching band hidden in his sock drawer, in case the answer was yes. He played this out in his mind a thousand times, in all the places he could’ve done this.

Instead of a romantic dinner or having Johnny meet him on top of the Statue of Liberty, he was in the room where Gwen was born, in pajama pants with dancing beakers on them and he hadn’t shaved or showered in days. Instead of the speech he had prepared, about love and their years of friendship and everything they’d been through and everything they were to each other, all Peter said was “Marry me?”

Johnny stared at him, eyes wide.“ _Pete…_ ”

The silence stretched out for a painfully long moment until Gwen cried out, sharp and loud, and Peter got to his feet. “I - uh. I’ll get her.” He shoved the box at Johnny and fled the room, heart racing.

Johnny was going to say no. He just got him back, and now Peter had ruined everything again.

_Johnny was going to say no._

Peter leaned over Gwen in her crib with a soft coo. “Hey Starshine - what’s all the fuss, huh?”

“She missed Papa, is what,” Johnny said behind him, reaching out with a hand to smooth back Gwen’s curls. “Hey, babygirl. Papa’s home.”

He was wearing the ring.

_Wait. What?_

Johnny scooped Gwen up into his arms and pressed kisses all over her face, murmuring apologies to her for being gone so long. He looked up at Peter and grinned. “Maybe next time let me give my answer before running off, huh?”

Peter nodded, struck by how right the ring looked on Johnny's finger. “Yes?”

Johnny leaned in and kissed him, cuddling Gwen between them. “Yeah, Pete. I’ll marry you.”

Peter kissed him back, at least until a tiny hand reached up and grabbed his lip. “Oi.”

Gwen tugged, frowning. “No.”

“No?” Peter asked. “I’m trying to kiss your dad, here.”

“No.” Gwen tugged on his mouth, and then giggled as Peter closed his mouth over her hand and made soft “om nom nom nom” sounds.

Johnny laughed and lifted Gwen up higher to kiss her cheeks. “You want all the kisses for yourself!”

“Yes.”

Johnny pouted dramatically. “Greedy. I want Daddy kisses, too.”

“No. Mine.”

“Tough noogies, kiddo,” Peter said, kissing her temple. “Papa and I are getting married and we’re gonna kiss all the time. Learn to share.”

“Okay,” Gwen sighed, as though her life was some great and terrible tragedy, and scowled up at Johnny.

“Yes?”

She tugged on Johnny's shirt with a pointed glare. “No.” 

Johnny laughed as he passed her into Peter’s arms before he peeled out of his shirt and flung it behind him.

“There, better?” Peter asked, arching an eyebrow at his daughter.

“Yes,” Gwen said, as imperious as a baby could get as she snuggled against Johnny's chest.

Johnny tugged Peter in close, and everything was perfect.

\---

Johnny, weirdly, agreed with Peter's paranoia about not waiting until Sue and Reed and Ben and the kids were all back home - and they _would_ be back home - before getting married.

“The way I was thinking of it, we’d get married with a small ceremony - hell maybe even just do it at the courthouse - and once they get back we have the big ceremony with the fancy stuff that you can plan.”

And Johnny had nodded and agreed, and Peter registered them to be married online at the same time he ordered pizza for dinner, much to Johnny's eye rolling.

Aunt May, Jay, Anna Maria, and Harry showed up at the courthouse, alongside MJ, Jessica Walters, Wyatt Wingfoot, and _Pietro Maximoff_ , of all people.

“The others would’ve come,” Pietro told Johnny as Johnny stared, utterly baffled, “But there was a thing that they needed to take care of. The team asked me to come as their representative.”

“I… thanks, Pietro.”

“I know you said that this was going to be very small, and that the large party would come later, but we all wanted you to know we support you, and that they all owe me money because I totally called this.”

Johnny laughed. “Oh, _they_ wanted me to know that?”

“No, but I did.” Pietro clapped Johnny on the shoulder. “They all said it would be Spider-Man, but I knew it would be this giant nerd that got you, in the end.” He winked, and Peter wanted to groan. “And he’s, you know, rich, so hey. Good on you for landing a sugar daddy with nice shoulders and a full head of hair.”

Peter frowned. “Thanks, I think - which obnoxious speedster are you again?”

Johnny elbowed Peter sharply. “Pete, don’t be a dick on my wedding day.”

“Yeah, _Pete_ , don’t be a dick on his wedding day. That’s for the wedding night.”

Then their names were called, and Johnny pulled Peter away before he could further pick a fight with Pietro.

\---

Peter was on his back on the sofa, Johnny asleep half on top of him with Gwen snoozing on his chest when he felt it - not so much his spider-sense going off as he felt a charge gathering in the air and he rolled them all off the couch, curling protectively around Gwen, and keeping himself between whatever was happening behind the sofa and Johnny.

There was a loud _bu-wang!_ noise, and then a crash, and a voice Peter hadn't heard in a very long time saying “Well, that sucked.”

Peter slowly got to his feet with a fussing Gwen in his arms, eyes getting wider as he took in the forms of Sue, Reed, Franklin, Val, and all the other missing Future Foundation members.

“Hey Uncle Johnny,” Val said as she patted out a smoking part of her uniform. “See, Bentley, I _told you_ it would work.”

“Oh shut up, Val.”

Sue smiled brightly at Johnny. “Hey, little brother. I missed you.”

It was only Peter’s quick reflexes that saved Johnny from cracking his head open on the coffee table when he fainted.

EPILOGUE

Peter walked into the kitchen to find Sue and Johnny at the table, heads bent together as Johnny bounced Gwen on his knee. “Hello, family.” It had been months since the other Fantastics returned and it still felt great to say that. “Wedding plans?”

“Yup,” Johnny tipped his head just enough to catch Peter's mouth in a quick kiss before returning his attention to Sue’s rather alarmingly large and complicated seating chart. Peter saw calculations in the side margins that he would’ve sworn had been Reed’s doing if he didn't recognize the curly flourishes Sue put in her handwriting.

“I don't see what all the fuss is about, do you Gwendy? Daddy and Papa are already married - this is all pomp and circumstance.”

“Pom pom pom pom,” Gwen said around her fingers.

“You promised me a lavish ceremony when my family returned, and now they're back. It is the least you can do after _hiding my child from me._ ”

“I didn't- she wasn't-!” Peter sputtered, and Johnny burst into laughter. “ _Johnny!_ ”

Johnny kissed him again and Peter's heart soared. “Relax, Pete. I already forgave you. But I am also holding this over your head until she graduates _at least_.” Peter rolled his eyes, heading to the coffee machine that Franklin had altered to make a cheerful _ding!_ when the brewing cycle finished to pour the three of them coffee and doctor it to their liking.

“I’m still not sure how you didn't know sooner she was your baby, Johnny,” Sue said, reaching out to tug playfully on one of Gwen's golden curls. “Have you never seen a baby picture of yourself, little brother? Or even me? She is very much a Storm.”

Johnny huffed. “I don't make a habit of looking at baby pictures, Sue.” _Not since you disappeared_ went unsaid, hanging in the air as Sue leaned in to brush her brother's hair back and kiss his forehead.

Gwen picked that moment to let out an almost comically loud fart, and then a soft “uh oh”, and Johnny sighed. “I got it.”

As he carried Gwen out, Peter set down the cups of coffee and passed Sue hers. “So, Sue. You wouldn't happen to know where those baby pictures of Johnny are _now_ , would you?”

Sue sipped her coffee with a tiny secretive smile. “I’m thinking about incorporating them into the ceremony.”

“Oh. Neat.”

Wait.

“That means you’d need _my_ baby pictures, too, wouldn't it?”

Sue grinned wider.

**END**


End file.
